


Tenchi Muyo! versus Men in Black

by evilpii



Series: Dark Energy Saga [1]
Category: Men in Black (Movies), Men in Black: The Series, 天地無用! | Tenchi Muyo!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Fusion
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-16
Updated: 2017-10-01
Packaged: 2018-08-22 21:05:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 80,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8300990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evilpii/pseuds/evilpii
Summary: When Washu notices an Arquillian battlecruiser in orbit of Earth, she, Ryoko, and Ayeka investigate. Meanwhile, Agents J and L acclimatize to their positions in the Men in Black, becoming involved with a crash in Manhattan Bay.





	1. The Chimera

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As a new weapon is created, a mysterious man ponders how best to conquer Earth and Jurai.

While most of the inhabitants of Earth had no knowledge of extraterrestrial races, a few select groups around the globe had both knowledge and interactions with otherworldly life. Of these organizations, the largest and most prominent based itself in New York City and took great lengths to maintain its clandestine activities from the public eye. Known as the “Men in Black” (MiB) due its operatives' ubiquitous black dress suits, the agency tasked itself with monitoring and controlling extraterrestrial activity on Earth.

Since the MiB's establishment in 1961, the bureau has maintained Earth's neutrality as an apolitical zone, a haven for those needing asylum. From the failed Boglodite invasion of 1969 to the plea of the Zarthans in 1978, the stone-faced personnel of this secret police force have held the line, protecting both Earth itself and the inhabitants' ignorance from the dangers around them. One such danger arose in July 1997 when an Arquillian prince was assassinated for the powerful trinket he had been hiding.

The assassin took the form of an immense insect, a cockroach with proportionate strength and endurance. His claws and talons could easily snap a man in half, but his body had the flexibility to be folded into a smaller form and concealed within a corpse, a grotesque “skin suit”. His glands could produce a cocooning agent that glue objects together, as well as preserve food hidden in this way.

However, these natural abilities were only a sample of the creature's genetic potential. Indeed, his race took many insectoid forms, some possessing wings or stingers, even a potent venom. These different forms were locked inside a “caste gene”, activated upon incubation to determine the individual's caste in the overall society of its hive. Wings typically depicted royalty, reproduction rights. Venomous stingers represented the the soldier type, berserkers born only to defend and kill. The assassin was chosen from the worker caste, high endurance and survivability in harsh environments, most expendable.

What if all of the creature's potential was unlocked in a single individual, a monster warrior? Could one such being destroy the Men in Black, conquer Earth? Could an army of such beasts topple a galactic empire?

No, a brutally strong monster would not stand against the powers and weaponry of the more advanced races. Among the stars were several different species, some united under the flag of the Galactic Union (GU), protected by its Galaxy Police (GP). Together, their pooled technology produced not only energy weapons like those wielded by the Men in Black, but also powered armor, thermoptic camouflage, and cybernetic augmentation.

And then, one must consider the abilities of the races themselves. A few select species had the ability to summon forth ethereal energies, even to weaponize them. Specifically, the royal family of the Jurai Empire were said to possess a power surpassing that of a god. This power flowed through the bloodlines of Juraian nobility, giving them the ability to manifest constructs like barriers and bolts of power. Even unarmed, a Juraian nobleman constituted a significant threat at close or long range. Over millennia, the so-called “Jurai Power” was refined and mastered, given discipline through the sword arts of the royal family, harnessed via their organic technology.

What could stand against the GP and its weaponry, let alone Jurai and its might?

As with many natural phenomena, Jurai's power had an antithesis, a polar opposite. The Universal Science Academy (SA), the GU's academic branch, classified this dark energy as “non-normal variety of occurrence”, or “NVO”. Its properties and manifestations mirrored Jurai's might with an antipodal disposition, the two annihilating one another in most every incident and simulation. In 1896, one such event caught the galaxy's attention, the rampage of a Super-A class criminal, codenamed “K.A.I.N.” With all the GP's weaponry, they could not stop Kain as he destroyed planet after planet, murdering those in his path. Only by using the power of the former emperor of Jurai was the nightmare ended, and Kain imprisoned. Sadly, the emperor died to achieve this great feat.

Another particular criminal had a great power of her own. A space pirate by trade, she had greedily heisted banks and convoys throughout her brief career starting in 1992. However, due to a twist of fate, she had become embroiled in the 1995 coup d'etat on the Juraian throne-world. During the end of the coup, she made a valkyrie-like assault on the planet, breaking through the planetary defense system with her single battleship. Even without her vessel, the young woman had numerous natural abilities: teleportation, flight, and energy constructs such as beam swords, defensive barriers, and even a temporary clone of herself.

Could all of these miraculous powers be married with the insectoid beast's brute strength and armor? Would this be enough to take Jurai?

These questions burdened the thoughts of the Great Liaens as he stood over the operating theater below. Shrouded in his black cloak, he stroked his long, lush beard slowly, considering both the nagging questions and the action before him. His artificial eyes glinted in the dim light, their polished glass surface shining over the steel-gray mechanical iris within each, the pupil in the shape “+”.

In the operating theater below, a single insectoid creature laid strapped to the central table. His brown carapace strained against the restraints as he snapped and snarled at the man far above. Around the beast stood storage vessels, each containing a subject much like the captured creature, but twisted or mutilated in some way. Some had humanoid tissue replacing the natural carapace. Some had tattoo-like lines scrawled in circuitous patterns along their appendages and faces. However, all were very dead.

A side door opened and allowed a young woman, no more than 17 years of age, to enter the chamber. Dressed in a white laboratory coat, she made her way quickly to the creature, her long, blond hair flowing in a vixen's tail behind her and over her elfin ears. Her feline gray eyes followed the monster's struggles, but without expression, distant, empty. The sclera of her eyes pulsed with a vile emerald light as she set to her task, revealing a quintet of syringes from the pockets of her coat. Despite the creature's roars and garbled threats, she found the soft flesh between his armored carapace and injected him with each vial of fluid in succession. Stepping aside, she stood patiently, watching his reactions.

As Liaens intently watched the beast's resistance give way to sudden fits, a woman's voice whispered into his ear, “Such delicious torment…”

His eyes slid away from the insect's reactions to the woman standing at his side. Her emerald gaze pierced back into his, vicious and venomous. Framed by her fiery red locks, she leered back at him with a slight, twisted smile on her lips. Notably, a patch of her hair was died orange and teased upward into a bed of spikes just above her left eye. Her blouse was cut low from her neck, plunging seductively around her cleavage, while her dress was split up along each of her legs. A green cloak fluttered about her shoulders as she laughed to herself.

How Liaens hated this woman, this witch Jezibel Kimitan. If not for the use of her psychic talents, he would prefer her kind scorched from the multiverse's memory. Thankfully, his race was immune to her wiles, at least those of the mental variety.

“You sicken me,” he hissed back at her.

“But,” her sultry voice retorted, “it's all for your victory over Jurai, yes?”

With a quick motion, he clutched the hand she had been snaking under his cloak. Raising her wrist upward, he responded, “Don't forget your place, woman. You are merely a means to an end.”

She scoffed as her smile widened. “As are we all in the eyes of the gods, even you.”

Her words burned in his ears as he scowled, releasing her wrist. His reticle-like eyes lingered on her for a moment before returning to the action below. There, the beast's carapace shifted color to green while its talons have elongated and curved inward, more scythe-like. However, his attention turned to the blond girl who administered the treatment.

“You are sure your control on her is absolute?” he worried.

Leaning on a guardrail above the theater, the Kimitan witch gazed down as well. Her eyes burned a deep jade, as did those of the blond girl below. As one, the two women smiled.

“Her will is more broken than it was two years ago,” Jezibel answered. “Even if her beloved hunter appeared, my connection to her mind would remain unchanged.”

“And, my army?”

As both watched, the insect's mandibles reconfigured themselves to match the changes of his talons and carapace, gradually resembling more a mantis than a roach. His eyes grew increasingly weary from the metamorphosis occurring within his body.

“This bug Illirg seems to be taking to the genetic treatment far better than the other subjects,” Jezibel stated. “The girl's hypothesis about Ryoan energy would seem to be correct.”

“Can it be controlled?” Liaens demanded.

Insulted, the witch curled her lip and retorted, “Keep in mind who I am. I can ensure his loyalty.”

“Then, have it prepared and sent to Earth as planned. I want to see how it fares in combat.”

As he spun away to leave, Jezibel called back to him once more, “And, if he should fail?”

“Have the gynoid at the ready. She, at least, has proven reliable.”

The malicious telepath took a sweeping bow, mocking her reluctant ally. “Of course, King Liaens, the Great.”

His teeth ground behind his lips while he vanished from her sight. As Jezibel stood there alone, her jade eyes turned back to the blond girl below, who gazed up at the unspoken command of her mistress.

“Good work, young Nerti Ro.”


	2. A Chance Encounter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Washu intercepts an Arquillian threat and enlists Ryoko and Ayeka to help her investigate.

Three video feeds played upon translucent panel screens.  
  
The first displayed a young woman kneeling on one knee amongst a lunar-like landscape:  jagged crags, tall ridges, and stone spires.  Seemingly dressed in a white kimono with a light violet trim, she caught her breath, her crimson-colored eyes refocusing on her foe.  Silvery hair cascaded down her shoulders and back while two black marks extended along her cheeks, much like the stripes of a tigress.  Determination flared in her eyes, tears long since vaporized by a righteous anger at her opponent.  
  
The second screen showed a monster, his body a vaguely humanoid pyre of black fire.  Where a man would have a face, this creature wore a porcelain-like mask mimicking a male visage, which would reconfigure itself to his moods.  However, the facade had been broken, the portion over his left eye shattered and lost in the battle preceding this confrontation.  What remained likewise held stress fractures, as well as traces of a purple-colored blood from the beast himself.  At the end of each of what would be his arms was a clawed hand composed of the same white stone-like material as the mask.  
  
The final panel held a current feed from the city of Tokyo, watching the people and vehicles commute in their usual bustle.  Close to the business and academic towers of the city, the orange and white communication tower presides silently over the skyline of the local ward.  Inspired by France's Eiffel Tower, the lattice structure invited tourists to its observation decks and attractions since its opening in December 1958.  However, no one in the area would likely remember the “unexplained event” that occurred in November 1970, now nearly 27 years ago.  
  
Alone, one woman examined these three scenes as they played simultaneously before her.  Her emerald feline eyes analyzed each moment that passed, trying to answer the questions plaguing her.  Her elbows rested on the arms of her hovering chair, her fingers wed and pressed lightly to her lips.  Fiery red hair was tied behind her head as the resulting spiked tail extended to the cold metal floor below her.  Though physically she seemed only 12 years old, she had long since claimed the title of the “greatest scientific genius in the universe”.  
  
Dr. Hakubi Washu had once been a professor at the Universal Science Academy within the Galactic Union over 700 years ago.  However, her curiosity led her down the route of weapon development, earning her a different title:  the “legendary mad scientist”.  As punishment, she was sealed into an α-L model prison unit and shot into space, eventually landing on Earth.  There, she stewed in stasis until her capsule was shattered in a spat between two young women, Ryua Ryoko and Jurai Ayeka.  
  
Free once more, Dr. Hakubi found that her landing point had become surrounded by a Shinto shrine, owned and maintained by the Masaki family.  As she had nowhere else to go, the family allowed her to take up residence in their home, to which she made a few “improvements”.  The first and most important of these changes was to connect a hallway closet to her old subspace laboratory, where she spent most of her time.  
  
Now, as Washu sat in her lab surrounded by her inventions and tools, she considered the three scenes playing before her.  The monster was Kain, the murderer who rampaged across the galaxy over 100 years ago.  From all the studies done on the creature during his own imprisonment, the SA had determined him to be a sentient energy form of NVO energy.  A year ago, in April 1996, Kain broke free from the subspace prison at the GP headquarters and rocketed to Earth.  In so doing, he traveled backward in time 26 years to November 1970, seemingly with the sole purpose of killing one young woman.  
  
Said young woman was Masaki Achika, the silver-haired girl in the other display.  The daughter of the shrine priest Masaki Katsuhito, she knew nothing of the cosmic creature, or of the power that latent within her.  Before the nightmare arrived, she had been a typical high school girl, even her eyes and hair were more commonly colored brown and black, respectively.  However, she was of the royal bloodline of Jurai through her father.  “Masaki Katsuhito” was an alias taken by the legendary prince of Jurai's royal family, Yosho, upon marriage to his Terran wife Masaki Itsuki.  While Achika laughed with her friends and fell in love with her husband, Nobuyuki, she never knew that Jurai's power flowed through her.  
  
Then, Kain arrived during her high school trip in November 1970.  Forced to defend herself, Jurai's power awoke within her, manifesting in a climactic transformation.  All the pretense of Terran lineage burned away as her hair and eye color shifted to those of more traditional Juraian heritage.  The remnants of her school uniform tore away and were replaced by her celestial kimono, her face painted by the black mark of Jurai's ferocity, the Mark of Rage.  After the battle with Kain ended, she did revert to her normal appearance, though damage had been done.  In the conflict, she saw glimpses of the future, namely her son Tenchi as well as her own premature death.  Nobly, she accepted that her memory of this horrible event, of her power and of her son, had to be erased to preserve the timeline from Kain's meddling.  
  
_Still_ , Washu wondered, _Why Achika?  Why would Kain travel light-years of distance, and decades of time, to attack her?_  
  
Admittedly, Achika was an easy target.  She had no knowledge of her abilities prior to her transformation, so among the ranks of the Jurai royal family, she would be the least likely to defend herself.  As the living antithesis to Jurai's power, Kain seemed to have an innate desire to exterminate all those who possessed the opposing energy.  Thus, Achika would naturally lie on his list of targets, as would her father and her son.  If Kain was merely a psychopath, this would be reason enough to murder her.  
  
_But_ , the redhead argued, _how would he even know about her?_  
  
Achika lived on a planet far from the bustle of galactic society.  Until Tenchi's lineage came to light in the recent coup d'etat on Jurai, her name was not listed in Jurai Royal Archives.  Being trapped in subspace for a century, he would not have had access to such recent news, not directly.  
  
_Thus_ , the scientist deduced, _someone would have had to relay that information to him._  
  
Yet, this conclusion raised a far more sinister question.  
  
_Who would want to kill Masaki Achika, a girl who knew nothing of her potential?  Who would benefit from her death?_  
  
Spacetime physics were one of Washu's innumerable specialties, and she investigated the branching timelines from the point of Achika's death at Kain's hands.  Within every scenario arising from that moment, one constant always followed:  the nonexistence of Masaki Tenchi.  
  
_Perhaps_ , the genius pondered, _a better question is “Who would want Tenchi gone?”_  
  
Like his mother, Tenchi knew nothing of the might lying dormant within him.  Through a sequence of chance encounters in late 1994, he came to meet Jurai Ayeka, princess of the Jurai Empire and then heiress to the throne.  The seat of power had been vacant while she had been crossing the stars, courting to marry before ascending to the crown.  During a battle with Ryua Ryoko, Ayeka's yacht _Ryu-Oh_ had crashed into the lake on the Masaki estate, leaving her marooned.  Though she later was able to contact the Galaxy Police, the princess chose to remain on Earth, for a “holiday” as she called it.  
  
Meanwhile, Ayeka's absence allowed another to usurp the throne.  Under the disguise of the legendary warrior Prince Yosho, a nobleman by the name of Kagato consolidated his power and eventually called for Ayeka's arrest on the charge of high treason.  Tenchi, as well as the other residents of the Masaki home, became embroiled in Ayeka's quest to prove her innocence.  Near the end of their journey to the Juraian throne-world, Katsuhito revealed his true identity, much to the surprise of everyone, particularly Tenchi and Ayeka.  Soon, Katsuhito confronted the man using his name, his nemesis, only to be defeated by him.  
  
Moreover, Kagato elaborated at length about the “darkness of the universe”, how he “refined” and “strengthened” his Jurai power to its “most extreme limits”, of “fighting a fear and desperation worse than death itself”.  At the time, Katsuhito attributed these remarks to the usurper being in “hell”.  
  
After the duel with the true Yosho, Kagato kidnapped Ayeka and took her to the palace on the planet Jurai itself.  With escort from friends and allies, Tenchi made his way to the throne room and killed Kagato, rescuing Ayeka.  
  
_If Achika dies_ , Washu thought, _then Tenchi is never born.  He neither meets Ayeka nor travels to Jurai to save her from Kagato._  
  
Scanning through the myriad of possibilities, the genius found several timelines stemming from Kain's attack on Achika that showed Kagato's success.  Kain's success could undo Kagato's failure.  Reflecting on Katsuhito's account of the usurper's words, the scientist speculated about a connection between the incidents, that Kain and Kagato might have been connected.  If Kain or the place of Kain's origin was the “darkness of the universe” Kagato described, the enmity between Jurai and NVO energies might explain the fear and desperation he felt.  Likewise, it could show how he strengthened, or perhaps corrupted, his Jurai power.  
  
However, this theory had a major flaw.  
  
_If Kain wanted to destroy all of those with Jurai's power_ , the minute woman mused, _why would he manipulate time to a Juraian's advantage?  Since he could travel in time, why not travel back to when the Jurai Empire was founded or…?_  
  
An alarm blared throughout her laboratory, breaking her chain of thought.  Irritated, she spun from her active panels to a nearby terminal, where a red alert flashed on a physical screen.  
  
“Oh, what is it now?” she rhetorically asked her machines.  
  
After a few keystrokes were entered, the device yielded an image of a large triangular-shaped craft in orbit above Earth.  The fierce vessel possessed a ridge along the two sides of its forward section lined with high-output beam weaponry, likely for ship-to-ship combat.  Mounted above its prow was a large-bore particle cannon, no doubt for ship-to-surface attacks.  This image shrank to the side of the screen as the computer began searching its database to identify the vehicle, soon displaying a schematic diagram of the conveyance.  Beneath the pair of images, the two were labeled “Arquillian Battle Cruiser” in the GU's common language.  
  
“What the hell are they doing so far from home?” Washu inquired to no one.  
  
Another display on the console caught her eye, showing the equivalent of “Transmission Active”.  
  
“Oh?  They're talking to someone on Earth?”  
  
After she entered a sequence of commands, the transmission sounded on her laboratory sound system.  Loud, livid gibberish squawked from her custom-built speakers, though she did not immediately understand its meaning.  
  
“Someone's unhappy,” she understated as she pursed her lips.  
  
Curious, she sent the foreign language through one of her translator algorithms, as well as started a trace on the transmitted signal to find its destination.  Within a few moments, a slightly distorted voice spoke from her speakers in an equally angry voice.  
  
“MiB, deliver the Galaxy, or Earth will be destroyed.  Sorry.”  
  
With a curl to her lip, Washu huffed, “I think I might have something to say about that.”  
  
Cracking her knuckles, several terminal screens opened before her, each displaying a different sequence of code.  Much to Jurai's embarrassment, the redheaded scientist had hacked and crippled the military network of Jurai's planetary defense system to help topple Kagato's coup d'etat.  She even thought to sneak a peek at the account books of the SA and incriminate some of those haughty administrators who kicked her out so soon after her reinstatement after her part defeating the coup.  Hacking a battle cruiser would be nothing with an open communication line.  
  
Just as her fingers touched the keys of her terminal, the transmission panel went black.  No signal to hijack meant she could not hack the vessel's computer system.  
  
“Dammit,” she cursed to herself.

 

* * *

  
The Masaki residence was a very modern building, designed by Masaki Nobuyuki himself.  Truthfully, the middle-aged architect had loved to sketch structures since high school, and that passion had lead to his career.  The idea for his home had first been set to paper shortly before he started to date his late wife when both were teenagers, their dream house.  Years of education and refinement saw the idea grow into a blueprint and, in time, the red-roofed house adjacent to the lake on the Masaki estate.  Naturally, he had gained permission from his father-in-law to replace the house from Achika's childhood.  Situated amongst the forests and foothills in Okayama prefecture, Nobuyuki and his beloved had lived together for a few short years in a lovely idyllic setting.  With the numerous rooms, they had hoped to have a large family, as well as entertain friends.  
  
Unfortunately, after Achika succumbed to illness, only Nobuyuki and his son Tenchi lived in the home, Katsuhito opting to remain at the shrine farther up the mountain.  While the priest did help his son-in-law raise Tenchi, the house felt empty for many years, vacant much like the hole left in both the widower and his elder.  
  
However, this changed in late 1994 as several new residents took their places in the home.  Among them was Jurai Ayeka, princess of the Empire of Jurai and one time heir to the throne.  Descended from the imperial bloodline of the extraterrestrial world, she held closely to the traditions of her people:  wearing an intricately woven kimono of the finest silk in the galaxy, her violet hair tied into two tails reaching to her ankles, her speech proper and erudite, her poise impeccable.  None could question her breeding or her education.  
  
The ruby-eyed woman had first come to reside on Earth after a particular happenstance left her yacht wrecked at the bottom of the nearby lake.  However, during her initial stay on the planet, she came to know Masaki Tenchi, as well as develop deep feelings for the young man.  For a while, the regal-tressed woman kept a slight distance from him due to her station in life, though her desires would not be silenced entirely.  
  
Sadly, her extended holiday ended quite abruptly when Kagato's emissaries arrived to arrest her for a fictitious treason.  All through their journey to Jurai, she secretly loathed the eventuality of departing Tenchi's company entirely.  When his true lineage was revealed, her affections became more overt as she attempted to admit her feelings for him, pleading with him to take his own birthright, to become emperor himself.  
  
At the same time, Katsuhito faced Kagato and fell to his nemesis.  Rushing to the scene with Tenchi, Ayeka first met the usurper and was taken captive by his vessel high above.  Held against her will, she used her native Jurai power to manifest a barrier around herself, to keep him from even touching her.  However, given Kagato's strength, her meager barrier would not have mattered.  When Tenchi came to save her, she watched helplessly as the older and more skilled villain beat her savior across the room.  Her heart ached with each strike Tenchi barely deflected with his quickly learned use of Jurai's power.  
  
Finally, Ayeka would remain silent no more.  She shattered her own barrier and attempted to strike down Kagato with her own energy.  Regrettably, the blast from her hands washed over the evil man impotently, just before he retaliated against her.  
  
In that moment, Tenchi rose again to his feet, declaring Kagato would not harm her.  Together, all three of them shared a vision.  Jurai's foliage faded away, replaced by Earth's.  Light shown through the canopy over the throne room upon Tenchi, only him.  Confused and angered, Kagato spouted rhetoric, that this was Jurai's true power, asking if Jurai had chosen its own master.  Finally, Tenchi cut down his foe, saving Ayeka at last.  
  
In the aftermath, the princess restored order to her planet, but pleaded to Tenchi one last time for him to take his place amongst the royal family.  To her heartbreak, he denied the throne, to leave her.  He spoke of the simple joys they had shared on Earth, which the Jurai emperor cannot have.  Her chest wanted to burst, to embrace him, to prevent him from leaving, but she merely clutched her hands together.  Her tears were the only cracks in her regal mask as she stoically bid him farewell and turned away, not even seeing him off.  
  
Months passed as she wrestled with herself, her responsibilities to her planet grappled with her true desire to be with Tenchi again.  In time, she too decided that the throne was not where she belonged.  In a long letter, she explained herself to the Holy Council of Jurai, instructing them to waive her right of succession, instead placing her great-uncle on the throne.  She flew as quickly as she could back to Earth and once more took up residence with the object of her affections.  
  
Today, Princess Ayeka stood in the kitchen of the Masaki home, stirring vegetables around the hot oil of a wok.  While she excelled in rhetoric and history, she wanted to be useful to the household, even if her cooking was not superb.  Thankfully, she had an excellent teacher.  
  
At her side stood her younger sister, Sasami.  Azure hair framed the girl's cherub-like face as she oversaw her sibling's cooking.  Being 12 years Ayeka's junior, Sasami was spared much of the other princess's stressful grooming for the throne, leaving her much more time to focus on her own interests.  While only nine years of age, the younger child of the royal family had a substantial culinary talent and had become the de facto chef of the household.  Notably, she had a curious birthmark on her forehead, two identical green triangles, mirror images of one another.  
  
Between the two long pigtails tied on either side of Sasami's head sat a curious brown-furred creature.  The cute animal had a puffball tail and long lop ears like a rabbit, and she would pounce and raise her hackles as a cat would.  Termed a “cabbit” by Washu, she also possessed a crimson gemstone embedded into her forehead.  Named Ryo-Ohki, the petite animal was sentient, though still very much a child in many ways.  Naturally, she and Sasami became fast friends and nearly constant companions after Sasami's arrival nearly three years ago.  
  
As Sasami watched Ayeka stir the wok today, Sasami instructed, “Turn the heat down a bit.  You don't want to overcook anything.”  
  
“Alright,” the violet-tressed princess answered as she adjusted the burner's regulator.  “How's that?”  
  
“That's fine,” her sister replied with a bright smile.  Ryo-Ohki mewed happily to concur.  
  
The role-reversal was not lost on Ayeka, having her younger sibling teach her food preparation, and she did feel a bit embarrassed.  However, she appreciated the change.  Considering both of them were from another world, a more advanced culture, Terran academics lacked significantly behind Juraian studies.  While the sisters had numerous recorded lectures and textbook files, learning from a book did not have the same quality as interacting with another person.  Ayeka had convinced Washu to help teach Sasami about the sciences, which at times seemed like a dubious proposition, but the arts and humanities had fallen to the elder sister.  Thus far, the arrangement did well for Sasami's academic growth, and it also kept the siblings close.  
  
“Have you read that passage of the _Holy Chronicle_ as I asked?” Ayeka asked.  
  
Glancing to the side, Sasami answered, “Not just yet…”  
  
“Well, don't forget about it.  Empress Achi had many insights into the early formation of the Empire.”  
  
With a heavy sigh, the azure-haired girl replied, “I will, I will.”  
  
“And, you'd best be ready for that arithmetic quiz tomorrow,” Washu's voice called from the doorway.  
  
Both princesses turned to see Washu wandering into the kitchen, a translucent laptop floating before her.  The genius's fingers danced on the illusory keyboard as she absently stole a pea pod from the cutting board and popped it into her mouth.  
  
“I'll study after dinner, I promise,” Sasami swore.  
  
With a grin, Washu shook her head and said, “I wouldn't worry too much.  Something important came up.  Mind if I borrow your sister?”  
  
The sisters exchanged a glance before Sasami disappointedly agreed, “Sure.”  
  
Ryo-Ohki mewed sadly as Ayeka reassured her sibling, “I'll make it up to you, Sasami.”  
  
The elder princess and the scientist stepped into the den and stood near the love seat and couch.  The morning rays of the sun entered through the sliding glass door opposite the room's seating.  Irritated, Ayeka folded her arms as she addressed the minute researcher.  
  
“I had hoped to spend the afternoon with Sasami.  What is so important?”  
  
Gravely, Washu explained, “I detected a vessel in Earth's orbit, an Arquillian battle cruiser.”  
  
“Arquillian?” the violet-tressed woman inquired.  “Why would they send a military ship here?”  
  
“That's what I hoped you could tell me.  I intercepted a transmission, stating that they would destroy the planet if they did not obtain 'the Galaxy'.”  
  
“Destroy the Earth?!” the taller lady exclaimed.  “Whatever would they want so badly?”  
  
“I did some searching in the SA databases, and apparently, 'the Galaxy' is a just that, a galaxy, but miniaturized to the size of a jewel.  As such, it serves as an excellent source of subatomic energy, the stars acting like billions of fusion reactors in concert.  Arquillia has kept the underlying technology hidden for centuries, even from their allies.”  
  
“So, they are likely wanting to preserve their secrets?” Ayeka reasoned.  
  
“I would expect so,” Washu agreed.  
  
“Still, destroying an inhabited planet is hardly condoned by the Space Peace,” the princess argued.  
  
“True,” the scientist acknowledged, “but considering the threat that an enemy might pose with such a potent energy source, it could be worth blowing up a remote planet like this one, inhabited or not.”  
  
“Yet, if this Galaxy is so pivotal, why not keep it in their own domain?”  
  
“How about we go ask them?” Washu offered.  “Doesn't Jurai have some relations with Arquillia?”  
  
“Yes,” Ayeka replied, “though not very deep ties.  I believe I met an Arquillian duke once during a party some years ago, but many dignitaries attend gala events.”  
  
“Do you think you could convince them to turn around and leave?”  
  
“I could try,” Ayeka said, “though if they are willing to destroy a planet over this artifact, they may not be open to diplomacy.  Have you contacted Kiyone and Mihoshi?  This would seem to be in their jurisdiction.”  
  
As resident officers of the Galaxy Police for the Sol system, Detectives Makibi Kiyone and Kuramitsu Mihoshi had the responsibility to protect and serve those in the area near Earth.  However, converting their GU currency into the Terran equivalent, via gold or other precious materials, yielded insufficient funds for the cost of living on Earth.  Consequently, both had to maintain terrestrial jobs to supplement their primary income.  Thankfully, the remoteness of Earth meant that their GP calls tended to be minor or insignificant, leaving them time to moonlight elsewhere.  
  
However, Kain's escape a year ago destroyed the GP headquarters, leaving the organization crippled and almost leaderless.  As a result, both Kiyone and Mihoshi had been far busier and more often away, helping their brethren rebuild from the disaster.  
  
“Tried,” Washu stated, “but I didn't reach either of them.  They are likely off-world, and as much disarray as the GP is in these days, I wouldn't rely on calling any other officers.”  
  
“I could ask for aid from Jurai,” Ayeka suggested.  
  
“No, I have a contingency plan,” the researcher said glancing toward the nearby staircase, “provided we can get her out of bed.”  
  


* * *

 

  
Of the residents in the Masaki home, Ryua Ryoko had the most notorious reputation.  In the years preceding her arrival on Earth, she made a name for herself as a fierce and daring space pirate, plundering cargo ships and financial institutions for their valuables.  Many of her victims could remember the glow of her feline amber eyes, as well as her spiked mane of cyan hair.  Her victorious laugh still rung in some of their ears.  
  
However, one of her main vices was alcohol.  After one magnificent raid on a transport convoy, she spent most of her haul on a variety of ales, brands spanning the GU as well as Jurai's holdings.  After drinking several bottles, she lounged on her pirate battleship and dozed when a GP shuttle found her and gave pursuit.  Hungover, Ryoko lacked her usual skills of evasion.  This fact, coupled with the officer's bumbling, caused both vessels to crash on Earth one autumn day in 1994.  The impact knocked her unconscious, which admittedly felt better than the throbbing headache of her waning drunkenness.  
  
She awoke with a sip of water offered by a kind young man, Masaki Tenchi.  While she had met numerous men in her criminal career, most wanted to use her for their own ends.  Rarely had she ever encountered someone who genuinely wanted to help her.  While she flirted and teased him through the first few months of her residence on Earth, he had stolen the pirate's heart.  
  
Naturally, Ryoko's desires for Tenchi came into conflict with Ayeka's.  The two women knew each other quite well, having clashed at several junctures throughout their lives.  The accounts varied about who was the instigator in each encounter, but none could doubt the damage each wrought.  Over their time on Earth, away from the responsibilities of royalty and the temptations of piracy, the relaxing and homey life of the Masaki estate cooled the rivalry between the pair.  The two have been known to relax in the onsen together, even scheme together, not unlike close friends.  Nevertheless, tensions between them can still spark, particularly concerning the affections of Tenchi.  
  
When the usurper's forces came to take Ayeka, both women, as well as the rest of the Masaki household, found themselves on the wrong side of the law.  During Ayeka's quest to prove her innocence, Ryoko's talents as a pirate became invaluable, allowing the group to evade detection and sustain themselves throughout the journey.  
  
Yet, the rogue could not anticipate the revelations waiting at the end of their trek through the stars.  When Katsuhito divulged his true identity, and Tenchi's lineage by extension, the landscape of the relationship between Tenchi and Ayeka changed.  While the princess had kept a distance from the Earth-raised boy, his true birthright endeared him to her, gave her leverage in his blood.  Ryoko eavesdropped, hearing every word of Ayeka's plea for Tenchi to ascend the throne.  Each phrase cut into Ryoko's heart, breeding jealousy and anger.  
  
Shortly afterward, the lady pirate saw the explosions from the battle between Katsuhito and Kagato.  Flying to the scene, she arrived just before Tenchi and Ayeka and challenged the usurper herself.  While she was not Juraian, she did possess an ethereal power of similar potency, giving her wonderful abilities that she regularly flaunted:  teleportation, energy manipulation, and flight.  However, these were nothing to the villain, who knocked her from the sky with a single vital blow.  
  
Once Kagato took Ayeka, everyone was in disarray.  With the princess's fate unknown and Tenchi's grandfather in a critical state, Ryoko tended her own wounds, hiding the severity of her own condition.  Deep in her heart, she knew Tenchi would face Kagato, to avenge his grandfather if not to save that “other woman”.  Still, she confronted her beloved, pleading for him to leave with her, to escape what was to come.  However, despite his own reservations, Tenchi denied her, claiming this fight for himself.  Heartbroken, she called out to him one last time.  
  
And, he turned back to face her.  
  
In that moment, she chose to stand by him, regardless of his feelings for her.  If he was risking his life, she would not let him go alone.  Donning her fiery combat attire, she piloted her battleship in a valkyrie-like assault on the Juraian throne-world.  Using every one of her abilities with reckless abandon, she successfully brought Tenchi to the planet's surface.  However, her wound broke open in the fray, bleeding as badly as before.  She steeled herself throughout the entire ordeal, and continued to hide her injury from Tenchi.  
  
At the palace, Tenchi and Ryoko said their goodbyes quickly, though their eyes lingered on each other.  She did wonder if he knew about her condition, or if he had second thoughts, but in either case, he ran into battle, leaving her behind.  Finally, she collapsed, pain overwhelming her, to say nothing of watching her beloved run to save another woman.  
  
She flew her ship away from the throne-world, now ignored after leaving her passengers.  Alone once more, she mused about the fun she had had, as well as the bitter loneliness she felt.  Silently, her battle over, she lost consciousness, succumbing to blood loss at last.  
  
A week later, the lady pirate awoke in a small hospital just on the outskirts of the Jurai Empire.  Surprisingly, she was not placed into custody and arrested.  While she was relieved not to be in chains, she remained curious as to how she arrived there.  She did ask her partner, Ryo-Ohki, who transforms into her magnificent pirate battleship, but the cabbit did not know either.  The assault on Jurai left the craft heavily damaged, bulkheads destroyed and stabilizers out of alignment.  She too fell unconscious, not only from her own injuries but also sorrow at watching her mistress bleeding to death.  She only remembered speeding away from Jurai, frantically hoping to find some help.  
  
During her recuperation, Ryoko caught the news about the end of the coup d'etat on Jurai, but saw no word of Tenchi taking the throne, only Ayeka restoring order to the planet.  The pirate knew where he must be, and soon enough, she returned to Earth, and embraced the boy she loved.  
  
Today, the cyan-maned fury laid curled in her bed, sleeping pleasurably late into the morning.  After a night of drinks and late-night movies, she had crawled into her sheets to sleep off her frivolities.  Unfortunately, an incessant knocking at her door stirred her from her slumber.  At first, she pulled her covers over her head, but the knocking became pounding.  
  
“Get up, Ryoko!” Washu shouted through the door.  
  
“Go away!” Ryoko yelled back.  
  
“We need you right now!”  
  
“No, you don't!” the pirate retorted as she packed her pillows against her elfin ears.  
  
“The Earth is in danger!”  
  
“Then, get the GP!”  
  
“They aren't here!”  
  
“Then, talk Ayeka into it!”  
  
“She doesn't have a ship!  For God's sake, Ryoko, get your ass out of bed!”  
  
“Get spaced, Washu!”  
  
Outside, the scientific genius scowled, genuinely irritated at the suggestion that she should walk into an airlock without a spacesuit and open the door.  Not only would the resulting explosive decompression be a horrible way to die, but none of her incomplete research projects would be finished.  At her side, Ayeka folded her arms and frowned at her rival's rebuttal.  
  
“Ryoko, that was hardly civilized,” Ayeka criticized, “even for an uncouth criminal like yourself!”  
  
“Let me sleep, dammit!” the cyan-haired woman demanded.  
  
“Not today,” Washu coldly answered.  
  
Raising her hands before her, the minute redhead summoned her phantom laptop and entered lines of code.  With one final keystroke, she sent the code to her network within her laboratory, where her machines executed the commands exactly.  Within Ryoko's bedroom, a deep hum reverberated under the young woman as a glowing star appeared under her.  Shielding her eyes, she pushed herself upward on one arm, squinting at the illumination.  
  
“Goddammit, Washu!” she cursed.  “Get the f-!”  
  
Before she could finish her expletive, the star-shaped light gave way to a hole in spacetime.  Unprepared, Ryoko fell into the gaping maw below her with a scream.  Outside the room, Ayeka blinked with surprise at the vocalization from the other side of the door before turning to Washu.  
  
“Give her a moment,” the scientist added coolly.  
  
In a second, a whoosh of displaced air signaled Ryoko's arrival as she appeared next to the genius.  Dripping wet and angrily awake, the pirate grabbed the short woman's collar and lifted her off her feet.  
  
“What the hell?!” Ryoko demanded.  “You dropped me in the damned lake?!”  
  
“It got you out of bed, didn't it?” Washu retorted snidely.  
  
The cyan-maned fury glared hatefully as she curled her free hand into a fist.  Thankfully for Washu, Ayeka stepped forward.  
  
“That's enough!” the princess ordered.  “A battleship is in orbit, threatening to destroy the planet!  This nonsense is not conducive to the problem at hand!”  
  
The slit-like pupils of Ryoko's amber eyes focused on her Juraian rival.  “What are you talking about?  Did you piss off someone else on Jurai?”  
  
Ayeka scowled back.  “I'll have you know the battleship is Arquillian, _not_ Juraian!”  
  
“Okay,” Ryoko corrected, “what did you do to piss of those little mech-riding bastards?”  
  
“It's not her fault, Ryoko,” Washu answered, gaining the attention of both.  “They are here for 'the Galaxy', an artifact they evidently hid on Earth.  If it is not returned, they are threatening to destroy the planet.”  
  
With this fact, the pettiness fled the pirate's eyes.  She had had dealings with the Arquillian military before she came to Earth, and she knew that they did not threaten idly.  Typically, their mode of operations was to issue an ultimatum, fire a warning shot, and then wait a “galactic standard week” for a response.  Unfortunately, this interval of time translated to about one hour on Earth or Jurai.  Thus, time was a factor.  
  
“Have they fired on Earth?” Ryoko asked.  
  
“Not that I've detected,” the scientist added, “and I'd like to keep it that way.”  
  
“Well, there're a couple ways out of this.  Either we give them what they want, or we blast their ship out of the sky.  I assume you don't know where this 'Galaxy' is?”  
  
“Not at the moment, no.  I spent the night attempting both to open communication lines with them and to hack the ship's systems.  Unfortunately, they have all channels closed.”  
  
Ryoko folded her arms.  “I'd rather not get into a fight with a battle cruiser.”  
  
“That's only if my first plan doesn't work out,” Washu placated as she motioned to Ayeka.  
  
The pirate raised a brow.  “And, she's 'Plan A'?  What's she going to do, talk them into not killing us?”  
  
The princess fumed while the researcher acknowledged, “Actually, yes.  That's the idea.  Ayeka was in line for the throne of Jurai, and she's not exactly unimportant now either.  Her presence on Earth might be enough to force them to back off.”  
  
“And if they don't?”  
  
“While she's talking to them, I'll be calculating the weak points of their ship so you and Ryo-Ohki can take them out.”  
  
“Starting an interstellar incident,” Ayeka interjected bitterly.  
  
“It's called 'self-defense', little princess,” Ryoko retorted.  “They threaten us; we fight back.”  
  
“That's hardly a philosophy for maintaining any sort of peaceful relations!”  
  
“They're not being 'peaceful', you idiot!”  
  
“Shut up, both of you!” Washu ordered.  Turning to the princess, the scientist stated, “Ayeka, if you can convince them to leave, everything will be fine.  But, you said it yourself.  They might not listen to reason.”  To the pirate, the researcher added, “Ryoko, your job is just to get us up there in their face so Ayeka can talk.  If it goes bad, that's when we worry about fighting them.”  
  
The violet-tressed woman turned to the side, accepting this reluctantly.  “Very well.”  
  
Likewise, the cyan-maned fury spun away and nodded.  “Fine.”  
  
“Good,” the redheaded scientist said.  “Then, get ready to go.  I'd like not to get blasted off the planet listening to the two of you.”

 

* * *

  
At the edge of the lake on the Masaki estate, Washu waited for the other members of her party to arrive.  Despite the dire reason for their excursion, the red-roofed home seemed peaceful in the pastoral setting.  Admittedly, all of the residents appreciated the rural locale since their antics had typically became loud, even explosive.  Whether the situation was an empowered spat between Ryoko and Ayeka or one of Washu's experiments gone awry, an urban environment would have inevitably called attention to them all very quickly.  Excluding the Masaki shrine farther up the side of the mountain, the nearest neighbor was miles away, meaning the extraterrestrials could come and go as they pleased without incurring the prying eyes of the uninitiated.  
  
Together, Ryoko and Ayeka exited the home with Ryo-Ohki perched atop the pirate's shoulder.  Folding her arms, Washu considered the pair, one as opposed to the other as fire was to water.  The space pirate Ryoko dressed herself brazenly, low-cut to expose her cleavage and tight-fitting to accentuate her figure.  Her hair naturally spiked around her head, a fierce mane for the lioness or a blaze of cyan engulfing her scalp.  She walked proudly, confidently, daring anyone to challenge her.  On the other hand, the Princess Ayeka wore a modest kimono, its layers hiding the curves of her form, but embroidered elegantly with motifs of the irises and waterways of Jurai.  Her hair fell around her face in a bowl shape, though two tails trailed fluidly behind her, a traditional style she had worn for many years.  Her gait was precise and well-practiced, an art form inherited from her regal predecessors.  
  
As they neared, Washu addressed them, “Ready?”  
  
“As we'll ever be,” Ryoko replied.  
  
“Yes,” Ayeka concurred, “though I hated to cancel my time with Sasami today.”  
  
Ryo-Ohki mewed sadly, likewise displeased with the situation.  While the cabbit had long been Ryoko's companion and partner in crime, the furry creature had actually grown very close to Sasami.  At heart, Ryo-Ohki was still very much a child and connected readily to the azure-haired girl, despite them being from different planets.  They often played and schemed together, and the loss of their fun time today disheartened the little cabbit.  
  
“She'll get over it,” the scientist answered plainly.  “Besides, we should focus on the matter at hand.”  
  
With a steadying breath, the princess added, “Agreed.  Shall we be off then?”  
  
Together, the three nodded as Ryo-Ohki mewed her acknowledgement as well.  Ryoko then glanced down to her furry companion.  
  
“Your turn, partner.”  
  
At this, Ryo-Ohki leaped into the sky and began her metamorphosis.  Meowing to the heavens, the animal's body began to crystallize and then expand in fractal patterns, gradually forming the hull of Ryoko's pirate battleship.  Although the spaceship was composed of an organic black gemstone, she could handle the rigors of cosmic travel just as well as any GU vessel.  Nestled among the spires of the fierce craft was a crimson sphere, the vehicle's bridge and passenger compartment.  Moreover, Ryoko and Ryo-Ohki shared a telepathic bond, which not only allowed the lady pirate to understand her companion's mews as a language, but also enabled her to direct the ship psychically.  In combat, this connection tended to be far more efficient than manual controls.  After years of piracy, the pair functioned as a single engine for battle and robbery.  
  
Ruby circles surrounded the trio of women on the ground, the rings floating upward around them.  Ryoko, Ayeka, and Washu slightly lifted from the surface of Earth before all three faded away and reappeared on the bridge of _Ryo-Ohki_.  There, they stood upon the mirror sheen of the crystalline floor, able to see outside through the one-way sphere protecting them.  An object floated before Ryoko, composed of three spheres attached end-to-end, _Ryo-Ohki_ 's control yoke.  While their telepathic connection was the ideal, physical controls did exist aboard the vessel, and the tactile contact actually amplified their mental link.  
  
With eyes set on the clouds above, Ryoko said, “Let's have a chat with those mech-riding bastards.”  
  
With a loud meow, the starship shot into the sky, quickly exiting the atmosphere into the blackness surrounding the blue world below.  Stars and other celestial bodies glimmered in the distance, small and minor compared to the silvery-gray of the far closer moon.  
  
Washu extended her hands and summoned her phantom laptop, quickly retrieving the data she has amassed about the Arquillian vessel.  
  
“I traced the source of the transmission to a geosynchronous orbit over the North American continent,” she related.  
  
“Why are they hovering there?” Ryoko asked.  
  
“Presumably,” Ayeka concluded, “the intended recipient of the message would be there, yes?”  
  
“Exactly,” Washu agreed.  “The target of the transmission is in the middle of New York City.”  
  
“That's a hell of a place to hide something so damned important,” the pirate critiqued as her ship began to precess around the planet toward the location.  
  
“They may have been hoping that no one would look in such a place,” the princess proposed, “or that the city might be busy enough to cover the item's location.”  
  
“Still,” Ryoko argued, “they involved a lot of people that have nothing to do with the thing.”  
  
“True,” Ayeka accepted, “but they likely did so to protect their own people.”  
  
“Yeah,” the rogue sarcastically added, “because their people are more important than anyone else.”  
  
“That's not what I meant,” the regal lady defended.  
  
As they flew around the planet, the sun's light grew dim heading toward the night of the American continents.  Soon, the Arquillian battle cruiser came into sight, its exterior lighting glowing ominously in Earth's shadow.  Washu began analyzing the schematics she had acquired earlier, searching for tactical weaknesses while Ayeka stepped forward.  Steeling herself, the princess nodded back to Ryoko, who likewise took a careful breath.  
  
At the pirate's mental cue, Ryo-Ohki produced a translucent panel floating before Ayeka.  Normally, this communication screen would display the other party in the conversation, provided the channel allowed video exchange.  However, the rectangular construct was filled with garbled static and digital artifacts.  
  
“Are we transmitting?” Ayeka whispered back.  
  
“Yeah,” Ryoko answered, “this is the right channel.  They just aren't answering.”  
  
“How rude,” the princess commented under her breath before addressing the screen.  “To the Arquillian battle cruiser in orbit of Sol III, I am Princess Jurai Ayeka from the Jurai Empire.  I would like to speak with the commander of your vessel immediately.”  
  
The static remained on the screen.  
  
“Again,” Ayeka repeated, “this is Princess Jurai Ayeka of the Jurai Empire.  I am addressing the Arquillian battle cruiser currently orbiting the third planet of this solar system.  Please do me the courtesy of responding.”  
  
No change in the display occurred.  
  
“To the Arquillian battle cruiser threatening the nearby blue planet, I am Princess Jurai Ayeka, and under the terms of our imperial alliance, I demand an audience with your commanding officer.”  
  
“This isn't working,” Ryoko whispered to Washu.  
  
“I can see that,” the scientist acknowledged, though busy with her own task.  
  
Then, Ryo-Ohki meowed, surprised.  She related her sensor information to her mistress, who immediately turned to the display of the ship outside.  The ridges along its hull began to glow and spark with accumulating force, readying to fire its primary weapon.  
  
“Oh, shit!” Ryoko cursed.  “Get out of the way, Ryo-Ohki!”  
  
Quickly, the crystalline ship darted to the side suddenly, putting Ayeka and Washu off balance for a moment.  Just afterward, a gold and green ray shot from the Arquillian craft's prow, racing toward Earth's north pole.  Even aboard _Ryo-Ohki_ , the trio could see the planet's clouds part, showing a melted crater in the ice below.  Thankfully, the area was uninhabited.  
  
_The warning shot_ , Ryoko thought to herself.  _Only an hour left._  
  
However, before anyone could react fully to what had happened, _Ryo-Ohki_ shuddered and shook from an impact.  Screeching out in pain, the crystalline vessel spun and began to fall down toward the planet.  Smoke billowed from one of her many spires as she descended into the atmosphere.  Aboard, Ayeka and Washu fell to the floor while Ryoko levitated to stay righted.  Through their telepathic link, Ryoko could feel Ryo-Ohki's injuries, hear and understand her cries.  
  
_What just happened?_ the pirate asked through their connection.  _What hit us?_  
  
_I don't know!_ her ship answered.  _I thought I dodged the shot!_  
  
“What's going on, Ryoko?” Ayeka asked.  “Did they fire directly at us?”  
  
“I'm not sure,” the pirate answered.  “I don't think so.”  
  
Another shot rocked the vessel, and then another, spurring howls of pain from the craft around the trio.  Ayeka outstretched her hands, forming a barrier around herself and Washu before they both would have slammed into a gemstone bulkhead.  The princess's eyes turned to her cyan-haired rival, who held tightly to the control yoke.  
  
At Ryoko's mental order, panels appeared all around her, each showing a different area of nearby space.  However, the only ship she could see was the Arquillian craft, silently floating above them, its weapons dark, unused.  
  
“Who the hell is-?” Ryoko started to ask herself when her amber eyes caught a glimpse of a shimmer nearby the battle cruiser.  
  
The screen zoomed closer to the shimmer, a distortion in the starlight just above the military craft.  Comparatively, the distortion seemed a little smaller than _Ryo-Ohki_ , but unfortunately, the image fell out of focus as clouds filled the displays.  
  
The crystalline spaceship grew red hot while she spiraled down through the atmosphere.  _Ryo-Ohki_ streamed her damage to Ryoko's mind:  balancer disabled, antigravity lost, navigation disoriented.  However, the veteran rogue recognized the ground coming ever closer, the island Washu had identified as the target of the original transmission.  
  
“Hold on!” Ryoko ordered, grasping the control yoke firmly.  “I'll aim for the bay!”  
  
Ayeka and Washu clung to one another within the barrier of Jurai's power while the vessel screamed downward through the sky.  While her emergency thrusters fired to slow her descent, she still  splashed down hard into the Lower New York Bay on the night of 5 July 1997.


	3. Induction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James Edwards and Laurel Weaver become involved in the assassination of Gentle Rosenberg, and emerge as members of the Men in Black. Meanwhile, Zed and Oh handle the aftermath, as well as a space pirate named Ryoko.

Dr. Laurel Weaver had just had the worst few days of her life.  Prior to 5 July 1997, she had been deputy medical examiner for New York County, performing her duties in the quiet isolation of the county morgue.  After earning a medical doctorate and studying forensics and pathology for a few additional years, she had grown rather cynical about the human condition in general. Her attitude only worsened during her tenure in the morgue, after seeing numerous ways Terrans could kill each other.  As such, the good doctor tended to prefer the company of the dead to the living.  
  
However, Laurel's life complicated around 2 July.  She had holes in her memory for which she could not account.  She vaguely remembered visiting a local police precinct, perhaps speaking with an officer or a government official, but not what was said or done.  A couple days later, she hazily recalled discussing some recent arrivals to the morgue with some black-suited agents.  Then again, as medical examiner, she did this regularly, so she merely attributed both incidents to déjà vu and nothing more.  
  
In the early evening of 5 July, the good doctor was finishing some paperwork when an orange tabby cat jumped onto her desk.  She had noticed the cat off and on for the past day, but she could not quite remember when he first got into the office.  The embroidery on the animal's collar read “Orion”, so no doubt the tom belonged to someone.  
  
Yet, a quite ornate fob hung from Orion's collar.  Curious, Laurel looked closer and found the fob held an orb, which itself contained a miniature galaxy swirling with billions of stars.  For a moment she was mesmerized by the artifact's beauty, watching a cosmic ballet performed within a jewel.  
  
Then, Orion hissed and leaped off the table, disappearing into the morgue.  Laurel was stirred from her awe and could hear the ringing of the call bell at the reception desk, an incessant noise.  With a heavy sigh, she turned back to her work, leaving the annoyance at reception to the conspiracy-buff attendant.  However, vicious roars and airy screaming followed.  The medical examiner rose from her chair and cautiously started for reception.  
  
As she reached the hallway to the front lobby, a tall man lumbered into the corridor.  He reeked of decaying flesh and mildew even from a distance.  His skin jostled loosely on his frame as he seemed to limp toward her.  He wore brown overalls and tan work shirt, likely a farmer or other rural laborer.  As he came closer, she could see one of his eyes had become completely white from days of rot, that the skin of his face was infected and peeling.  Needless to say, Laurel was sickened by his very presence.  
  
Pausing, she asked apprehensively, “Can I help you?”  
  
From his pocket, the man produced a long-barreled revolver, a veritable hand cannon.  She froze, eyes fixated on the firearm.  
  
“Where's the animal?” the zombie-like farmer demanded.  
  
Considering the only non-human animal she had seen recently was Orion, she knew what he meant.  Still, this grotesque hardly had good intentions.  
  
“I don't know,” the doctor answered.  
  
Then, he grabbed her lab coat and slammed her back against a bank of coolers, pressing his gun along her collar.  
  
“Where's the animal?!”  
  
“I told you, 'I don't know.'”  
  
“Well, let's see if we can find it,” he hissed before grabbing the collar of her coat.  He pulled and dropped her onto her back, dragging her through the morgue like a caveman's conquest.  While she tried to get a grip on his wrist or leg, he continually pulled free.  
  
The ringing of the call bell returned, as well as an impatient “Hello!”.  The zombie farmer paused, notably irritated as he curled his lip and glanced back at the hallway.  Whoever was at the reception desk was not someone her assailant wanted to see.  Maybe she could be saved from this disgusting creature.  
  
Still, the farmer had the gun.  
  
He quickly rolled out a gurney and knelt beneath it with a sheet draped over the side.  He kept one hand clamped onto her ankle, and the other firmly grasping the revolver.  Stiffly, Laurel stood waiting her potential savior, lips dry and heart pounding, not wanting to die tonight.  
  
A man entered the morgue, brown skin, black hair, early-30s, formal black suit.  He had a confidence about him not unlike a police officer, and the good doctor could not shake the feeling she had seen him before.  Regardless, she hoped he might free her of this predicament.  
  
Standing right across the gurney from her, the man introduced himself, “I'm Sergeant Friday from the 26th precinct.  A cat came in with a corpse the other day, 'Orion' on the name tag.”  
  
“Yes,” she replied nervously, “that's right.”  
  
“Right.  Well, this cat is a…” Friday said with a distinct pause and unsureness, “a witness… in a murder case.  I'm going to need to take him with me, ask him a few questions.”  
  
By the absurdity of his statement, she was sure he fabricated the story on the spot, but it was rather irrelevant to removing the zombie's hand from her leg.  However, maybe she could work with it, nudge him to realize what was actually happening under the gurney.  
  
“Well, I don't know where the cat is right now.”  
  
“Oh, you don't?”  
  
“No, but…” she started with a slight husky quality to her voice, “maybe you can take me with you instead.”  
  
“Damn, you do start fast, don't you?” he scoffed.  
  
“I'd _really_ like to go with you,” she reiterated, dropping the facade to her voice.  “ _Now_.”  
  
“And, exactly why is that?” he asked with an idiotic grin on his face.  
  
“There's _something_ I need to show you,” the medical examiner added, pointing toward the gurney.  
  
“Slow down, girl!  You ain't gotta hit the gas like that!”  
  
A moment's thought on her part gave her the realization that from his perspective, he saw her pointing at her hips, not the gurney.  
  
_Oh, God_ , she internally chided, rolling her eyes, _he didn't just think…!_  
  
“No, you don't understand,” Laurel tried to correct.  “You _really_ need to see this.”  
  
“Oh, I will.  I will,” Friday reassured her obliviously, his eyes scanning along her form.  “Oh, one thing.  I gotta drive.  You know, it's not some macho trip I'm on.  I'm saying that's just the way I get down.”  
  
“Look, 'stud'.  You're really not getting this,” she stated as her patience finally broke.  “There's _something_ I need you to _help me with_!”  
  
This time, Laurel pointed directly under the gurney, and Friday's eyes slowly slid to the gurney.  Seeing the suspicion and realization in his eyes, the medical examiner nodded emphatically.  As he reached into his jacket pocket for his sidearm, Orion growled and jumped onto the gurney from a nearby cabinet.  The zombie grabbed the poor cat and upturned the wheeled bed, forcing the well-dressed moron to step back.  The assailant ripped the collar from the orange tabby and quickly grabbed Laurel's neck.  He hid behind her body, his revolver pointed at her temple.  
  
The morgue's doors burst open as another black-suited man entered, early-50s, salt-and-pepper hair, white skin.  His demeanor was stern, well-practiced, likely government.  He carried a small pistol-like weapon composed of some silvery metal, but it did not seem to have a chamber for bullet cartridges.  Friday's weapon was very similar, though considerably smaller and making some odd chirping noise, almost like a cricket.  Both agents leveled their weapons on Laurel, attempting to get a good shot at the creature holding her hostage.  
  
“Freeze it, bug!” the older man ordered.  
  
“Christ, you are thick!” Laurel criticized Friday.  
  
“Look.  How was I supposed to know?” the younger agent retorted.  
  
“What did I have to do?!  Sing it for you?!”  
  
“Well, if you weren't coming on like some drunken prom date.”  
  
“Oh, God, that is so typical!  Any time a woman shows the slightest hint of sexual independence…!”  
  
“Shut up!” the monster behind her barked, tightening his grip on Laurel's neck.  
  
“Let her go, shit-eater,” the elder agent returned.  
  
“Oh, listen, monkey-boy.  Compared to you humans, I'm on the top rung of the evolutionary ladder.  So, can it, alright?”  
  
“You're breaking my heart.  Show me your face, and I'll cure all your ills.”  
  
“You ever pull wings off a fly?  You care to see the fly get even?!”  
  
The “bug” changed his grip on her neck, his fingers wrapping around her windpipe rather than her spine.  Her eyes widened, adrenaline rushing through her, fear freezing every muscle, her mind racing with incomplete information.  
  
Unfazed, the veteran operative rhetorically asked, “How far do you think you're going to get without your ship, if that's what you call the piece of space-trash we got locked up in the office?”  
  
“Put your weapons down,” the creature demanded.  
  
“Never going to happen, insect,” the skilled agent answered.  
  
“It's okay, Laurel,” Friday said reassuringly.  
  
“How is it 'okay'?” Laurel argued.  
  
“I'm saying, 'It's gonna be okay.'”  
  
“Don't bet on it, meat-sack,” the creature added before wrapping an arm around her waist and leaping through the glass window behind them.  
  
As the glass shattered around her, the zombie jumped again, sailing over the nearby stairs and railing to land on a sidewalk adjacent to the morgue.  Laurel screamed and fought against the bug's hold on her, but her blows did nothing to him or to loosen his grip.  He walked right into the street, right in front of a yellow cab.  Thankfully, the cabbie stopped just before hitting them both.  
  
Unfortunately, the undead-looking farmer pulled open the cab's door and hauled the driver out, tossing him on the road before throwing Laurel into the driver's seat.  Before she could exit out the driver's side door, he pushed her into the seat and held a postcard in her face.  
  
The postcard depicted the observation towers in Flushing Meadows Park, site of the 1964/1965 World's Fair.  The two towers stood side-by-side, two pillars with saucer-shaped decks layered atop one another.  Relics of a bygone age, both structures, as well as the rest of the surrounding pavilion, had become neglected and weathered by time.  
  
“Take me here!” the monster ordered, the barrel of the gun ever so close.  
  
Steeling her frantic nerves, she replied, “No way.”  
  
At this, the walking corpse opened his mouth, revealing two insectoid mandibles.  He roared like a lion and hissed like a cockroach, snapping what meager bravado she had left.  
  
“Take me!” he demanded again.  
  
The medical examiner hit the accelerator and sped off, while the beast at her side swallowed the fob from Orion's collar.  As she wildly drove toward Queens, dodging through traffic and bumping into other cars, her educated mind raced equally with fear and information.  She reviewed the exchange between the bug and the agents in the morgue, as well as what she had just seen in the seat beside her.  Through her studies of forensics, she knew well that those mandibles could not be human tissue, nor viably implanted with current medical techniques.  Moreover, the older agent continually referred to her kidnapper as “bug” and “insect”, while the monster himself continually called them all “meat-sack” or “monkey”, even mentioning a comparison of evolution.  
  
Glancing fearfully at her captor, Laurel made a quick analysis of his body's decay.  The putrefaction of the flesh was consistent with unpreserved skin over the course of three days.  The sagging skin could indicate substantial weight gain followed by an equally substantial loss, but the movement of his joints was inconsistent with a normal skeletal structure.  Indeed, his bones would have to be broken to allow how his arm bent nearly 10 cm below where the wrist should be.  Considering he was not screaming in pain, she judged he either was high on painkillers or…  
  
_He isn't human_ , she accepted at last.  
  
Naturally, through her studies of pathology, the good doctor knew of numerous organisms that parasitized the human body.  However, of the insects she knew, none could have mandibles as large as the farmer's.  In fact, an insect in scale with those mandibles would be larger than the farmer's body.  
  
Before she could ponder further, the zombie at her side growled deep and low, finally noticing her staring at him.  Her hands tightened around the steering wheel and focused on driving, hoping those two agents would get to her before she reached Flushing Meadows Park.  
  
Sadly, just after night had fallen, Laurel and her inhuman assailant parked next to the Unisphere globe.  As the bug cracked open the passenger-side door, the medical examiner breathed a brief sigh of relief before he grabbed her coat's collar again.  
  
“You're coming with me,” he barked.  
  
“What?” she asked.  
  
“It's a long trip,” he answered with a disgusting grin.  “I'll need a snack.”  
  
Once again, he pulled her along like a sack of meat toward the two observation towers.  
  
_An giant insect wants to eat me for a “snack”!_ her thoughts screamed.  
  
Thinking only of her own survival, Laurel struggled with her captor, her legs scraping against the asphalt and concrete.  Soon enough, they reached the towers, where he hefted her onto his shoulder in a fireman's carry before starting to ascend the pillar's ladder.  As her height above the ground increased, she felt fear closing around her whenever she glanced up to the disc-shaped deck above.  She had little doubt any more that her kidnapper was anything terrestrial in nature, and unless she wanted to be his dinner, she had to act.  Since she could not overpower him, all she had left was her sharp tongue.  
  
“You don't want to eat me,” she claimed, her eyes fearfully on the ground.  “I'm a very important person on my planet.  Like a queen!  A goddess even!  There are those who worship me!  I'm not telling you this to try to impress you.  I'm just letting you know, it could start a war!”  
  
“Good,” he approved.  “War.  That means more food for my family, all 78 million of them.  That's a lot of mouths to feed, your highness.”  
  
Disgusted further and desperate not to be eaten, she finally struck her elbow repeatedly into his head.  At this point, falling to her death would be preferable to being consumed by an insect.  
  
“You're a _wonderful_ dad, but I'm staying _here_!”  
  
Annoyed by her, the bug tossed Laurel into the air at his side, where she fell through the branches of a tree until she hit and clung to one sturdy limb.  Catching her breath, she turned her eyes back to the tower above, where the zombie opened a hidden panel on the underside of the observation deck.  Once he crawled inside, the panel closed behind him, and within moments, a deep hum arose from the structure.  The layers and rails of the observation deck closed down upon itself, forming a very stereotypical saucer shape.  Exterior lighting flickered to life while the entire machine rumbled, tearing free from its pillar and floating upward into the sky.  
  
The young doctor could not believe her eyes.  She was witnessing a flying saucer lift off from Queens with an alien insect inside.  Thankfully, she counted her blessings that she was not aboard with him.  Secretly, she hoped he starved on whatever trip he took.  
  
However, before the vessel reached the clouds, two blue fireballs flew from the ground and splashed into the hull of the craft.  Its trajectory veered back toward Flushing Meadows Park, panels exploding free and flames bursting across the vehicle's surface.  The machine circled once, smashing through the tall flagpoles from the World's Fair before slicing through the Unisphere and crashing into the ground.  A plume of soil burst up from its point of impact as it slid forward, coming to rest before two men holding rather large weapons.  
  
Surprised, Laurel blinked to clear her eyes.  Those men were the two agents from the morgue.  They had finally arrived and shot down the bug's saucer, preventing his escape.  
  
_Better late than never_ , she supposed.  
  
A large panel creaked open as her kidnapper lumbered out, ranting angrily at the two agents.  While she could not hear the details of the exchange between them, she did grin at the two men holding the villain at gunpoint.  He put his hands on his head, not unlike any other perpetrator being arrested.  
  
Then, he ripped the skin from his body and revealed a slimy brown carapace that slowly unfolded before the two agents.  Laurel's eyes widened as she saw her assailant unveil his true form, a monstrous cockroach.  Stunned for a moment, the men hesitated to fire their weapons before the roach spat some mucous that clung to their weapons.  With an inhalation, he ripped the guns from their hands and devoured them, leaving them unarmed.  The insect then swept the two of them aside before storming toward the remaining observation tower, the remaining ship.  
  
Then, the elder agent ran in front of the insect waving his arms and yelling at the beast before screaming the first words Laurel could make out.  
  
“Eat me!”  
  
With a roar and to the horror of both the younger agent and Laurel, the bug granted his wish.  The beast's mandibles opened wide and distended before it lunged forward and enveloped his body with its throat.  Within seconds, the veteran agent was gone, inside the gullet of the extraterrestrial insect.  
  
Then, the remaining black-suited man launched forward.  Throwing rocks and wielding a mangled beam of steel, he engaged his partner's devourer.  
  
“Hey!  What's up?!  Just gonna eat and run, huh?!  What about dessert?!”  
  
The beast merely pushed him toward the tree where Laurel clung in silent witness.  Again, the apparent rookie stood, the wind knocked from his lungs.  
  
“What?  That's it?  Where you going?  This party's just getting started.”  He walked directly into the bug's path to the tower.  “Where you going?”  He picked up a flaming branch from the first ship's ascent and brandished it before the bug.  “Where you going?!”  
  
The giant insect recoiled, surprised at the man's bravado.  
  
“Let me tell you something.  There's only one way off this planet, baby, and that's through me!”  
  
The beast simply punched him, yet the tenacious young man refused to stay down.  Again and again, he attempted to stab the bug, wrestle with its immense girth, but the monster was too large and too powerful for him.  Finally, the man was sent sailing through the air and into the metal siding of a nearby dumpster.  
  
As Laurel craned her neck to see what became of him, the branch holding her finally broke, sending her to the ground.  Quickly, she scurried behind the tree and some nearby bushes as the bug climbed the pillar.  While she watched, the young man wearily regained his feet and walked toward the bug again, determined.  
  
“Hey,” the agent called out, clearly dazed from the impact.  “Where you going?  Why you running, huh?  I'm still standing.  Come on, bring it!  Come on, bring it!”  
  
Then, he paused and turned back to the dumpster.  From Laurel's perspective, she only saw him kick a hole into the rusted side of the large garbage container and cautiously step on something.  
  
The bug stopped immediately.  
  
“Uh oh,” the agent said very loudly, very purposefully.  “I'm sorry.  Was that your auntie?”  
  
The beast hissed and swung back toward him.  
  
“Oh, then that must mean that's your uncle then, huh?” the young man added, stomping clearly again.  “You know you all look alike.”  
  
The monster jumped off the pillar in a rage and started stalking toward the agent.  
  
_He's stepping on other bugs_ , she reasoned, _to enrage the damn thing.  Why the hell would he do that?_  
  
“Well, well,” the young man began, antagonizing the giant insect further with each creature he crushed beneath his shoe.  “Big bad bug got a bit of a soft spot, huh?  See, what I can't understand, is why you gotta come down here bringing all this ruckus.  Snatching up galaxies and everything.  My attitude is 'Don't start nothing; won't be nothing'.”  
  
As Laurel lurked in the bushes, the agent stood face-to-face with the creature, its mandibles and claws shaking with rage, wanting to tear him asunder.  
  
_What the hell is he doing?!_ she wondered.  _It's going to eat him too!_  
  
“Need to ease up out my face before something bad happen to you,” the agent warned coldly.  
  
Then, the racking of a slide preceded a high pitched whine, much like a capacitor charging.  
  
The agent just angled his head to the side and grinned victoriously.  “Too late.”  
  
The bug clutched at his body before the juncture between his thorax and abdomen exploded in a spray of slime, sending his two halves in opposing directions.  Laurel recoiled from the blast, momentarily losing track of the events, hearing three different thuds around her.  However, she promptly opened her eyes to see the veteran agent, alive and well, holding his gun alongside his partner, both covered in mucous.  The younger man pulled an item out of the ooze for both of them to see, to which the elder pulled out what seemed to be a strangely designed flip phone.  
  
“Zed,” he said into the device, “call the Arquillians.  Tell them we have the Galaxy.”  
  
She smiled, relieved that they had succeeded, though while they started to banter back and forth, her eyes caught movement nearby.  Crawling silently toward the two men, the top half of the bug was still alive, its razor-like claws pulling it forward toward them.  She started to stand when she noticed a silvery gleam a short distance away.  
  
_The other gun_ , she realized.  
  
She slid quietly over to the weapon, watching the broken insect lurch ever closer to the two heroes.  They happily chatted, relieved at their victory until the monster reared up and lunged at the younger man.  Laurel stood and fired the weapon, smashing the villain's head and thorax into a splash of goo around the men.  Both turned to see her standing behind them, satisfied at her own win.  
  
“Interesting job you guys have,” she quipped.  
  
After returning to their feet, the two agents wiped off the entrails of the insect and changed into another pair of matching black suits.  While the elder agent walked off to the side with his communicator in hand, his protégé lingered by their car, reflecting on the battle that just concluded.  Laurel approached him and leaned against the car, catching his attention.  
  
“So, care to tell me what all this was about?” she asked.  
  
He glanced over to his partner, who was still occupied with his conversation on the communicator.  A little worry seemed to roll through the young man's eyes as he considering her question for a moment.  She could clearly see that they were from some secretive organization, so he was likely debating on what he should say.  Regardless, he disregarded whatever secrecy protocols existed and explained the events to her.  
  
“Alright,” he began.  “You remember that cat Orion?”  
  
“Yeah, he was hanging around the office for about a day.”  
  
“He belonged to an Arquillian prince, Gentle Rosenberg.  The bug killed Rosenberg to get to the jewel on the cat's collar.”  
  
“What was that jewel?” Laurel asked, thinking back.  “Before the bug came to the morgue, I looked into the fob, and…”  She paused, thinking about all the magnificent star clusters and swirling nebulae.  “… it was amazing.”  
  
“From what I know, it's a really, really small galaxy.  It's the best source of power in the universe, so the bug wanted it to start some shit with Rosenberg's people.”  
  
“Then, why didn't his people just come and get it?”  
  
The man turned to her and folded his arms.  “They did.  They sent a big-ass battle cruiser to get it.”  Pointing up to the sky, he added, “It fired a warning shot about an hour ago.  If we didn't get the Galaxy back, they were going to blow the planet up to keep the bug from getting it.”  
  
Laurel's eyes narrowed at him.  “Who the hell do they think they are?!  There are billions of people here!”  
  
“Hey,” he defended, “I just work here.  Apparently, Earth doesn't matter much to the rest of the universe.”  
  
“So, how do you two factor into this?  I guess you're some sort of government agents?”  
  
Tugging proudly on his lapels, he replied, “Protecting the Earth from the scum of the universe.”  
  
The medical examiner rested her hands on her hips as she scanned slowly over the wreckage around them.  
  
“Well, destroying half of Flushing Meadows is preferable to the planet exploding,” she sardonically stated.  
  
“It's hardly _half_ ,” he argued.  
  
“So, now that you have the Galaxy back, what happens now?”  
  
“We'll probably take the Galaxy back to the office and hand it over to the Arquillians,” he surmised.  “A crew will come out and clean all this up before anyone else notices.”  
  
She folded her arms and added, “And me?”  
  
A conflict arose in his eyes as he glanced to the ground for a moment.  She could tell he was avoiding telling her, and a fear stirred in her chest.  With all the effort to hide the events here at Flushing Meadows, one could easily anticipate her silence at some level as well.  One sure way to ensure her silence would be to kill her, though if that was an option, they would have shot through her in the morgue to stop the bug there.  Besides, the man standing before her did not seem like a killer.  As deputy medical examiner, she periodically had to testify to her forensic findings in murder cases.  Having seen several murderers firsthand, neither agent seemed so heartless.  
  
Before he could bring himself to answer, his mentor returned.  
  
“Let's go,” the elder man stated as he opened the driver's side door.  
  
“Kay, what should we…?” his protégé began.  
  
“Both of you, get in,” the older agent ordered sternly.  
  
The pair joined him inside the automobile before the car roared to life.  The engine seemed far more powerful than what would normally be found in a 1980-era Crown Victoria.  Admittedly, considering all that had happened tonight, Laurel would not be surprised if the car was some sentient robot from another planet.  
  
An uneasy silence surrounded them as they drove away from Flushing Meadows Park, taking the tunnel from Queens back to Manhattan.  With the excitement past, the good doctor reflected on the evening.  She had been held hostage by a giant alien insect, watched as two government agents confronted the beast, and saved their lives, perhaps the whole planet.  Part of her felt rather proud about that fact, though other more immediate matters permeated her thoughts.  
  
“So, 'Kay', I presume?” she addressed the elder agent.  “What are you going to do with me?”  
  
“You'll be back at your apartment before you know it,” he answered plainly.  
  
“ _That's_ reassuring,” she said sarcastically.  
  
“Don't worry, Laurel,” his partner added, casting a mild glare at his mentor.  “His sense of humor died when Elvis went home.”  
  
Her brow raised.  “'Went home'?  I shouldn't be surprised.”  
  
“Try finding out that your third grade teacher was an alien from Venus,” the young man added.  
  
“Jupiter,” Kay corrected.  
  
“Yeah, whatever,” his partner replied, rolling his eyes.  
  
Having seen the younger agent for some time now, Laurel still could not shake the déjà vu she had looking at him.  His mannerisms, his impudent tone, his bravado, all seemed familiar but just out of reach of her memory.  
  
“What is your name?” she asked.  “I swear I've met you before.”  
  
“I'm Agent J,” he answered, “and we met in the morgue.”  
  
“Just the letter 'J'?” she scoffed.  “I should have known you wouldn't give me your real name, or the whole story.”  
  
“Hey, that is the whole story, Laurel.  Kay and I came to the morgue…”  
  
“… tonight,” his mentor interrupted, “when the bug came for the Galaxy.”  
  
Incredulously, Jay looked over at his partner.  “Really?”  
  
“We don't discuss business with the public, kid.”  
  
With a heavy sigh, the newer agent turned back toward the windshield.  “Alright.  Sorry, Laurel.  That's all I can say.”  
  
Dr. Weaver could see that Jay wanted to tell her the truth, but Kay would not let him.  As they continued on in silence, Laurel wondered about what he would have said.  As deputy medical examiner, she saw numerous dead bodies pass through her morgue.  Considering the brutality of the giant cockroach tonight, Laurel asked herself why she had not seen the victim from the creature, let alone encountered anyone like these two before.  Apparently, their organization not only cleared the scene efficiently, but also silenced witnesses.  She worried more about her own fate as the car came to rest in front of a Brooklyn-Battery Tunnel ventilation building, just outside Battery Park.  
  
The building itself was an imposing concrete brick towering over them, with the nearby skyscrapers looming far higher still.  One of four such structures, it had the designed purpose to exchange and clean the air within the Brooklyn-Battery Tunnel, which connected Manhattan and Brooklyn.  Illuminated only by the street lamps, the building seemed like a monument to the achievements of mankind.  
  
Tonight, however, “mankind” had gained a new definition for Laurel Weaver.  
  
All three occupants exited the vehicle, though Kay instructed the good doctor to remain with the car.  She reasoned they had business in regard to the Galaxy, considering all the trouble they had in getting it.  She sighed and sat on the fender of the old Crown Victoria while the agents walked toward the stone building.  
  
However, while she waited, she noticed they loitered near the door, talking amongst themselves just out of her earshot.  Kay was manipulating some silvery device in his hand, different from the weapons they had used with the bug earlier.  Admittedly, Jay seemed confused throughout the entire discussion.  
  
_He's probably teaching him about some new tool_ , she reasoned.  Admittedly, she had already pegged Jay as very new to the job, particularly compared to Kay's consummate professionalism.  
  
Growing impatient, and tired from this ordeal, Laurel folded her arms and called out to them, “Hey, guys!  My apartment isn't anywhere near here.  It's not even on the same island.”  
  
They glanced to her briefly, Jay with his jaw open like he had just been punched in the gut.  Kay finished his apparent explanation and handed the silver device to his protégé, who accepted it very tentatively.  Speechless, Jay put on his sunglasses at this dark time of night, which caught the doctor's attention as quite odd.  He then raised the device and flashed a bright red light into the other man's face.  
  
After the flash, Kay seemed dazed while Jay spoke to him for a couple of minutes.  About a minute after Jay stopped talking, Kay blinked his eyes and glared quizzically at his partner before wandering off into the night without another word.  The younger agent removed his sunglasses, revealing a melancholic expression on his face, loss and guilt evident.  
  
Confused, Laurel walked to him and asked, “What was that all about?  You look like your dog just died.”  Glancing to where Kay vanished into the darkness, she added, “And, where did Kay go?”  
  
“Don't worry about it,” he said distantly as he pocketed his sunglasses and the flashy device.  “Kay had some business to take care of.”  Fishing in his pocket, he retrieved the Galaxy's fob.  “I still have a job to do.”  
  
Another man's voice replied, “That you do, son.”  
  
Both turned to see the doors to the ventilation building open, revealing two individuals standing in the opening, a man and a woman.  The man had a husky build, mid-60s, black hair, white skin.  Like Jay and Kay, this new man wore a very nondescript black suit, though he did have a rather distinctive goatee and mustache.  He carried a confidence and distance in his gaze likely built over the span of decades with this organization.  The woman, on the other hand, appeared to be in her late-40s, blond hair, white skin.  Unlike her male colleagues, she wore a black skirt suit, though she could easily be mistaken for most any other businesswoman.  While she seemed comparable in age to Kay, this woman in black had a similar demeanor to the man at her side, formal, professional.  
  
“Zed?” Jay addressed the man.  
  
The elder gentleman stepped down to him and stated, “We have to get that Galaxy back to our friends upstairs.”  Taking the fob in hand, he added, “Besides, you have a fair share of paperwork after all the racket you caused today.”  
  
“What about Kay,” the newer agent asked before motioning to Laurel, “or her?”  
  
“That's all been arranged,” Zed reassured him as he nodded to the lady at his side.  
  
“I'll escort her home, Agent J,” the woman declared with a distinct British accent.  “You should finish your mission.”  
  
Laurel folded her arms.  “Let me guess.  'Agent W'?”  
  
Likely from working amongst a secret organization composed primarily of men, the female operative caught the implication, “W” for “woman”.  She grinned to herself and answered, “'Agent O', actually.”  
  
Despite herself, bad puns and crass jokes about orgasms raced through Dr. Weaver's educated mind as she remarked sarcastically, “That's a _lot_ better.”  
  
“Admittedly,” Oh remarked, “I know of agents with worse designations, Dr. Weaver, particularly in a 'boy's club'.  I'm sure medicine is no different.”  
  
The good doctor had to agree.  Historically, medicine was a male-dominated profession, which could impede the upward mobility of a female practitioner.  In some ways, circles of medical doctors resembled college fraternities, including the unspoken nepotism and hazing.  Laurel would not deny that encounters with her male peers shaped a portion of her cynicism toward the human condition.  
  
However, Jay interjected, “Agent O, I want to get her home.”  
  
Laurel could hear a little worry in his voice as before, likely concerning how she might be silenced.  Still, she could not resist a quick jab at his expense.  
  
“I'm sure you do, stud.”  
  
Before the young agent could retort to her, Zed interjected, “Junior, she is a veteran agent and can handle driving Dr. Weaver home.  You, on the other hand, have a Galaxy to return.”  
  
Laurel could see Jay's loyalties torn in his eyes before he acquiesced to his superior.  He glanced back at her one last time and said, “Goodbye, Laurel.”  
  
The finality in the young man's voice caught the good doctor's ear as Zed escorted him inside the ventilation building.  She wanted to respond, to reassure him, but honestly, she did not know what would become of her in this drive with Oh.  The elder woman motioned toward the Crown Victoria.  
  
“Shall we?” she asked.  
  
Laurel slid into the passenger's side door, offhandedly commenting, “I could use a shower after all this.”  
  
“I'm sure you could,” Oh agreed, taking her place behind the steering wheel.  “I doubt you enjoyed being manhandled by 200 pounds of decaying flesh around a giant cockroach.”  
  
The car roared to life once more as the lady agent drove away from Battery Park toward Staten Island.  The medical examiner turned to her escort and regarded her cool and collected demeanor, not unlike the grizzled Agent K who had walked into the night.  
  
“So, how long have you been at this?”  
  
Oh grinned.  “Not as long as some.”  
  
“What is it exactly that you all do?”  
  
Unflinchingly, her chauffeur explained, “We monitor and police extraterrestrial presence on this planet.  At any given time, there are about 1500 alien residents, many of them on Manhattan Island itself.”  
  
“How long have aliens been here?”  
  
With a chuckle, Oh answered, “On Earth or in Manhattan?”  
  
“Both would be nice,” Laurel retorted.  
  
“As you might imagine, claims of extraterrestrial visitation extend through history:  Roswell, the so-called 'foo fighters' of World War II, even some ancient civilizations.  Our official first contact was March 2, 1961, outside New York City with a Baltian refugee ship.  They wanted a neutral world where creatures without a home could find asylum and make a life.”  
  
“How neutral was tonight?” the doctor remarked.  
  
“Political balance is tricky, as you might imagine,” the agent observed.  “In 1978, we did choose not to help the Zarthan queen in her war with Kyloth since their conflict had no bearing on Earth.  Tonight, however, the bug had assassinated a visiting dignitary on our world.  That action does invoke our direct involvement.”  
  
“Since aliens really exist,” the medical examiner argued, “why are they in disguise?  Why keep such an important truth hidden?”  
  
“Considering your profession, Dr. Weaver,” Oh returned, “I'm sure you already know why.  You have seen what humans will do to each other.  Can you imagine what they would do to another sentient life form, particularly one that is more intelligent, more powerful, or even just aesthetically different?”  
  
This statement took Laurel aback.  She had seen the results of gruesome murders, bodies so mutilated and mangled that she took hours to reconstruct them, let alone uncover how they were torn asunder.  An itch in the recesses of her mind ached, to bodies with inexplicably missing organs or incorrect anatomy.  While she could not formulate this mystery memory as a whole, she could visualize a nonhuman creature on her examination table, stab wounds, gunshot holes.  She knew well what mankind could do in hate or fear, even love.  
  
“However,” she considered, “what about what an alien could do to us?  I'm sure some of these other races have technology far beyond ours, by the looks of the boys' guns.”  
  
“That is why the Men in Black exist,” Oh acknowledged, “not only to keep these alien residents from discovery by humans, but to protect humanity from any threat these visitors might pose.”  
  
Listening and internalizing all she has heard, Laurel finally asked her driver the question that had not been answered all night.  
  
“Then, what happens to me now?”  
  
As Oh slowed the car to a stop in front of an apartment building, she took a calming breath.  Turning to Laurel, the medical examiner could now see a slight moisture to the agent's eyes that was not evident earlier.  
  
“Kay saw potential in you, just like he did in Jay.  You kept your cool against the bug, and saved both men's lives.  You are perceptive and intelligent, which are needed qualities for our line of work.”  
  
For a moment, the good doctor blinked and considered her meaning.  “You're offering me a job?”  
  
“In short,” Oh admitted, “yes, if you want it.”  
  
“And, if I don't?”  
  
“Then, you go back to your normal life, like nothing ever happened.”  
  
Laurel raised an eyebrow.  “After everything I saw tonight, I don't see how I can do that.”  
  
“Rest assured,” the elder woman grimly affirmed.  “It can be arranged.  I'll give you until sunrise to decide.”  
  
The weight of the offer bore down on Laurel's shoulders as she thought about the issue.  She glanced out the car's window, seeing her apartment nearby, the excitement finally giving way to exhaustion.  Her skin did crawl, thinking back to the evening's activity, and she craved a shower again.  As she opened the door, she paused while one more question entered her thoughts.  
  
“What happened to Kay?  He just wandered off into the night without a word.”  
  
Agent O took a heavy breath as she faced forward in the car again, likely pushing her personal feelings aside in favor of professionalism.  
  
“He was reassigned.  You will likely never see him again, whatever you decide.”  
  
Seeing the wetness in the agent's eye glint in the dim light, Laurel inquired, “Is the job worth it?”  
  
“For the sake of all the people on Earth,” she answered, “yes.  I'll see you in the morning.”  
  
At this, Laurel exited the car before Oh sped off into the night, the black car vanishing in the darkness around it.  For the entire night, Dr. Weaver pondered Oh's offer, to join the MiB.  As she washed away the dirt and mucous from her evening's ordeal, she thought about the dangers waiting around her, hidden just from sight.  Monsters beyond her imagination could be lurking within the skin of her neighbors, her coworkers, anyone in this city.  
  
Yet, she also considered the excitement and discoveries she could witness, all she could learn and experience.  As a medical doctor, she could only wonder at the biology of these otherworldly beings, how their bodies operated and functioned.  As a police force, the organization MiB likely had its own forensic unit, which could give her such insight into the questions now rushing into her head.  
  
Then, she worried about Oh's words about Kay, as well as what might happen to herself if she turned down the offer.  The way Kay walked away, so blank and empty, Laurel wondered what the device Jay used did.  
  
_Could it have affected his mind?_ she asked herself.  _Might that be how they enforce their secrecy?_  
  
Admittedly, Laurel had more questions than answers, and she knew of only one way to ensure those questions received answers.  
  
Dr. Weaver only got a couple hours of sleep, though this was not unusual for a medical examiner in New York City.  As the sun rose on 6 July 1997, she put on her most professional skirt suit and walked back to the street next to her apartment, where the black Crown Victoria was already waiting.  Agent O stood next to the car and smiled to herself as Laurel approached.  
  
“I'm in,” the doctor announced quietly.  
  
“Welcome to the Men in Black,” her new mentor answered.

 

* * *

  
  
Before 2 July 1997, James Darrel Edwards III made a name for himself as one of the best of the New York Police Department (NYPD).  Only in his early 30s, he regularly frequented Gold's Gym to stay physically fit and was known to rundown perpetrators on foot, much to the embarrassment and jealousy of his older peers.  He also had a keen perception and intuition, which served him well on the street to identify suspects and locate evidence in his cases.  
  
However, Edwards's superiors refused to promote him due to his severe problems with authority, cracking wise and often arguing with his captain, to say nothing of his fellow officers.  The department's counselors expected the root of the issue arose from his childhood.  His father, Col. James Darrel Edwards II, had been assigned to the military detail of the historic Apollo 11 launch, but had been murdered on a nearby beach where he was to watch the launch with his son.  Being only four years old at the time, James was sent to live with his maternal aunt in Los Angeles, against the wishes of his father's family in Philadelphia.  The ensuing custody conflict, and James's own heroic ideal of his father, hammered a wedge between the young man and his uncle.  That split seemed to extend to most other authority figures, eventually leading to James moving to New York, not far from his cousins in Pennsylvania.  
  
The murder of Col. Edwards remained unsolved and drove his son to become a police officer, to solve mysteries like this one and bring other families some closure.  
  
Late in the evening of 2 July, James found himself dazed and disoriented, his muscles aching a bit like he had been for a long run.  Eying his surroundings, he recognized his location as a Chinese restaurant run by a rather odd man named Wu.  Officer Edwards had dined here a few times before, usually after checking on Jack Jeebs, a local fence the police periodically used as a source.  
  
Across from the young man sat an older gentleman, likely in his early 50s, dressed in a formal black suit.  He was laughing hysterically at some joke he had just finished telling, but that James could not remember.  Scattered before them were half-eaten dishes of food and bottles of beer, seemingly showing they had shared each other's company for a couple hours.  Coming to his senses, James pushed his mind to recall what was happening, but he kept drawing blanks.  The feeling set him very ill at ease, particularly since he should still be on duty.  
  
The other gentleman noticed the time and suddenly stopped laughing, becoming stone-faced and stern in an instant.  
  
“Oh,” he said.  “We gotta go.  Thanks for the egg rolls, kid.”  
  
As the man fished through his coat pocket, James replied, “Hey.  Wa-wait a minute.  Who are you?”  
  
“See what I mean about tequila?  You're a very bright young man, James, but _you_ need to lay off the _sauce_.  Now, I'll see you bright and early, 9 o'clock.”  He produced a business card and handed to James, adding, “Be there, or be square.”  
  
While the man left, the officer examined the card:  white card stock, “MiB” embossed in black on the front, “504 Battery Drive” handwritten on the back.  Walking back to his apartment, James attempted to place the fellow from the restaurant.  His stern demeanor seemed like government, reminiscent of a man James had met as a boy.  He felt an eerie déjà vu the more he thought about the man, and the more he wanted answers.  
  
The next morning, James found his way to the indicated address, discovering a ventilation building for the Brooklyn-Battery Tunnel.  Entering, he saw the huge fans of the air exchanger, as well as a lone man in a black suit reading a newspaper amidst the loud droning from the ducts around him.  Much like his apparent colleague, this sentry was likewise very nondescript, almost uniform in appearance, though clearly of African descent as opposed to European.  Edwards also noticed a curious logo on the floor, a black ellipse with three rings crossing it.  
  
“Help you?” the guard asked.  
  
“Yeah,” James answered, “this dude gave me this card the other…”  
  
“Elevator,” the man rudely interrupted, motioning to the metal doors to his right.  
  
Annoyed by the response, James just walked forward and called the lift, still wondering about the meaning of this.  Pushing the only button inside the car, the officer rode down for a few moments until the doors opened, revealing a strange room.  Within the rectangular room, light shone down through circular openings in the ceiling, as well as through crevices where the ceiling met the walls.  The walls and ceiling were a dull gray, contrasting the white egg-shaped chairs and matching short table.  Seated here were six decorated young soldiers, each of the military branches represented at least once.  Before them stood a man in his mid-60s, dressed again in the same type of black suit.  
  
“You're late,” the agent said to Edwards.  “Sit down.”  
  
Increasingly more curious, James followed instructions and sat in the remaining chair as the agent introduced himself.  
  
“My name is Zed.  You're all here because you're the best of the best:  Marines, Air Force, Navy SEALs, Army Rangers, NYPD.  And, we're looking for one of you, just one.  What will follow is a series of simple tests for motor skills, concentration, stamina.”  
  
Yet, Zed did not answer the one question the policeman actually came to hear answered.  Edwards raised his hand and got the agent's attention.  
  
“I see we have a question,” Zed commented.  
  
“Yeah,” James said, “I'm… I'm sorry.  Maybe you already answered this, but why exactly are we here?”  
  
Almost immediately, the soldier directly to his left raised his hand too.  
  
“Son?” Zed spoke, motioning to the young man.  
  
Standing to attention, the young man introduced himself, “Second Lieutenant Jake Jenson, West Point.  Graduate with honors.  We're here because you're looking for the best of the best of the best, sir!”  
  
The agent acknowledged his reply with an approving nod, and Lt. Jenson glowered arrogantly at Edwards before retaking his seat.  However, the soldier clearly did not know either, and the irony, as well as the arrogant glower, sparked the policeman to chuckle to himself.  
  
“What so funny, Edwards?” Zed asked, quite serious.  
  
“Your boy 'Captain America' over here,” James answered honestly.  “'The best of the best of the best, sir!'  'With honors'!  Y'know, he's just really excited, and he has no clue why we're here.  That's just very funny to me.”  
  
Unfortunately, in explaining himself, all of the other soldiers now glared at Edwards also.  Zed too stood stone-faced and silent.  Alone, the cop's laughter died.  
  
“But, y'all ain't laughing though.”  
  
Indifferently, Zed just shrugged.  “Okay.  Let's get going.”  
  
For the entire morning and afternoon, Zed tested the seven men, using written exams, physical trials, and target shooting.  After the tasks were finished, Edwards milled with the soldiers while the agent wandered off, presumably to compile the results.  While the six soldiers exchanged stories and argued about whose service was better, James walked around the targets from the weapons trial.  Each target was of some inhuman creature, featuring claws and tentacles, among other strange appendages.  
  
The one exception was a Caucasian girl carrying quantum physics books, topics way above the usual ability of an eight-year-old.  Unlike exercises where one was to shoot enemy targets and spare friendly targets, “little Tiffany” was the only target that would normally be friendly.  Moreover, while all of the targets moved, only little Tiffany came forward at the shooters.  All the others moved parallel to the shooters, and he could reason away all of them as threats, except little Tiffany.  Thus, Edwards had taken careful aim and had shot only her.  Notably, Zed and the soldiers had been surprised at his shot, though the old agent had smirked when James had explained himself.  Of course, that smirk had vanished when the policeman had quipped for Zed to “ease up off my back about it”.  
  
With the tests done, Edwards could examine the targets more closely, and his analysis remained the same.  Only little Tiffany was out of place.  As he considered his situation, he began to see more incongruities.  This entire testing situation was covertly below a tunnel ventilation building, but he had seen no other ducts or fans since leaving the elevator.  Among all of these ignorant applicants, he was the only one who was not military, though his father was.  He continued to think back to the previous night, about the man in the Chinese restaurant.  
  
_Who was he?_ James asked again.  _How did I meet him?  How did I even end up there?_  
  
Yet, the more he pushed to remember, the more the memories refused to coalesce.  
  
Soon, Zed returned and announced, “Gentlemen, congratulations.  You're everything we've come to expect from years of government training.  And now, if you'll just follow me, we have one more test to administer:  an eye exam.”  
  
The soldiers dutifully followed him while Edwards lingered behind, still processing what he knew so far.  As he exited the gun range, he heard a familiar voice call to him.  
  
“Where you going?”  
  
James turned to see the man from the restaurant, the same stoic face and salt-and-pepper hair.  
  
Stopping immediately, the policeman confronted the agent at last, “Yo.  Hey, man.  What the hell is all this?”  
  
Handing James a folder marked with the same ringed logo from the elevator room, the black-suited man walked with him and began to explain, “Back in the mid-1950s, the government started a little underfunded agency with the simple and laughable purpose of establishing contact with a race not of this planet.”  
  
As they continued through the hallway, his host glanced into a side room.  James followed his gaze and saw where Zed stood before the six soldiers, each seated willingly in rather ordinary chairs.  Zed donned a pair of sunglasses while holding a silvery device, supposedly to administer the eye test.  While James's attention lingered briefly, his host advanced through the corridor, and gave more answers.  
  
“Everybody thought the agency was a joke, except the aliens who made contact March 2, 1961, outside New York.  There were nine of us the first night:  seven agents, one astronomer, and one dumb kid who got lost on the wrong back road.”  
  
Flipping through the file, James saw gray-scale photographs of an apparent alien encounter.  A grounded flying saucer was opened with a 7-foot being in its doorway.  Several black-suited agents stood around the visitor, as well as one young man in a striped shirt carrying a bouquet of flowers.  The civilian's face resonated with Edwards, again a memory tingling in the back of his mind.  However, he did notice a similarity between the young man in the picture and the agent at his side.  
  
Still, the temptation to crack wise grew too great.  
  
“Aw,” James jested, “you brought that tall man some flowers.”  
  
Annoyed, his guide merely motioned to an adjacent corridor and continued.  
  
“They were a group of intergalactic refugees.  Wanted to use the Earth for an apolitical zone for… 'creatures without a planet'.  Did you ever see the movie _Casablanca_?”  
  
Edwards nodded.  
  
“Same thing, except no Nazis.”  
  
However, the policeman's acceptance of the story was already waning.  He had expected concrete, real-world answers to his questions, not a conspiracy theory about extraterrestrials.  These pictures were likely faked, just like any other such hoax.  
  
“We agreed, and we concealed all the evidence of their landing.  
  
Farther into the document, James found photographs of the construction of the observation towers in Flushing Meadows Park.  Comparing them to the flying saucers pages before, the officer could see the similarity, but still he regarded the story as fantasy.  
  
“So,” Edwards deduced, “these are real flying saucers, and the World's Fair was a just cover-up for their landing?”  
  
“Why else would we hold it in Queens?” his host quipped.  “More non-humans arrive every year, and they live among us in secret.”  
  
Finally, the policeman could not hold his sarcasm back any longer.  He already had decided the man at his side was either completely deluded or maintaining an elaborate joke.  
  
“Look.  I'm sorry.  Not to change the subject or anything, but when was the last time you had a CAT scan?”  
  
“About six months ago,” the agent plainly stated.  “It's company policy.”  
  
“Right,” Edwards retorted, “you should make another appointment.”  Stopping, he patted his host on the back and offered the file back to him.  “Look.  Tell your boy Zed I had an absolutely wonderful time, and thank you for everything, but why don't you show me the door?”  
  
Accepting the file, the experienced operative sighed heavily.  “Alright.  I want to get some coffee.  You want some coffee?”  
  
He motioned a nearby door, but James was determined to leave.  
  
“No, thank you.  I'm fine.”  
  
Regardless, the man walked into the coffee room, where some loud laughing arose.  James could distinguish a couple different voices as his host began to speak.  
  
“How you doing, fellas?” the agent said.  
  
“Hi, Kay,” the voices answered  
  
“That's no decaf, is it?” the agent asked.  
  
“Viennese cinnamon,” a single voice stated.  
  
“Aw, don't tell me we only got that powdered stuff for cream again.  I hate that stuff.”  
  
Curious, James leaned to the side to peek within the room, and his eyes grew wide with the sight he beheld.  There with the agent stood four worm- or slug-like creatures, having elongated bodies and thick antennae.  None of them was over three feet in height, each with glassy black eyes.  They poured each other coffee and smoked cigarettes while holding a conversation with this agent “Kay”.  Kay was completely casual with them, just getting his coffee and cream while they chatted.  
  
“No, zapika zatwaka,” one worm replied, pointing to a nearby with some creamers.  
  
“Huh?  Good,” Kay accepted as he stepped to the table and added the cream to his coffee.  “You guys getting along alright?”  
  
“Eh, saywaka,” they said together.  
  
“Well, don't work too hard.”  
  
“Okay,” the worms answered together as Kay left the room to join James.  The policeman's jaw hung open, completely in awe of the evidence in that coffee room, of life from another world.  He was still searching for the right words when Kay walked up to him.  
  
“Sure you don't want some coffee?”  
  
Dumbly, James just shook his head as Kay lead him back toward the elevator.  After taking a moment to process what he had seen, the policeman regained his power of speech.  
  
“Wh-what were…?”  
  
“They're general gofers around the office,” the agent plainly explained.  “In return, they get all the coffee they want.  Considering coffee is sacred on Takwella, it's cheaper than hiring more staff.”  
  
“So, you have aliens actually _working_ here too?”  
  
“A few who are trustworthy and hardworking.  Of course, no one comes to MiB without a reason.  Everyone has a story to tell, even the worms.”  
  
Reflecting on all he had heard, as well as now seen, one question burned in James's mind.  As the pair reached the elevator, he turned to his apparent recruiter and steadied his words.  
  
“Then, why me?  What brought me here?  I doubt you randomly pick a new agent from a Chinese joint every night.”  
  
For a moment, the older man's grizzled features softened, becoming nostalgic as he reflected, “I offered this job to a man a lot like you a lifetime ago, but he turned it down.”  Full of an old memory, his eyes slid to the neophyte and added, “Maybe you won't.”  
  
As they rode the elevator back to the surface,  James inquired, “What happened?  Why didn't he take the job?”  
  
The operative said distantly, “He had conflicting obligations.  Being a new father doesn't mix well with this job.”  
  
At this, the cop finally asked, “So, what _is_ this job?  What exactly is it that you do?”  
  
Soon, the elevator came to its apex and opened its doors to reveal the original foyer that welcomed James to the complex.  Kay motioned to the door.  
  
“There's the door, just like you wanted.”  
  
“Hold up!” the officer rebuked.  “You're not about to get rid of me that quick without giving me an answer.”  
  
“Hey, I told you the truth, and you wanted the door.”  
  
“That was before you showed me a room full of coffee-addicted worms!”  
  
The lone guard seated in the antechamber turned the page of his newspaper idly, commenting, “The worms always get a rise out of the new guys.”  
  
James scowled at the guard while Kay folded his arms.  
  
“We license and monitor extraterrestrial activity on Earth,” the recruiter answered, regaining the policeman's attention.  “If you want to know more, come with me.”  
  
As Kay exited the building, James followed close behind, leaving the guard to resume reading his paper.  The pair crossed the street and entered Battery Park, a large public park at the southern tip of Manhattan Island.  Adjacent to the waters of New York Harbor, the park was named for the artillery batteries originally placed by setters in the colonial era to protect the young city.  Now, it served as a beautification of the sea of concrete and steel New York City has become, and a secondary front for the clandestine base of the Men in Black.  
  
While James followed Kay through the park, numerous people passed the pair:  some enjoying the sun shining above, some chattering on flip phones to their offices, others just walking on a journey elsewhere.  Considering his recent revelations, the police officer's eyes watched everyone he passed, wondering which were from this planet, and which were from another star entirely.  His escort, however, nonchalantly made his way to a particular bench overlooking the harbor and motioned for his guest to take a seat with him.  
  
“Alright, kid.  Here's the deal,” Kay plainly began.  “At any given time there are around 1500 aliens on the planet, most of them right here in Manhattan.  And, most of them are decent enough.  They're just trying to make a living.”  
  
Nodding, James proposed, “Cab drivers.”  
  
“No,” the veteran agent corrected, “not as many as you'd think.  Humans, for the most part, don't have a clue.  They don't want one or need one either.  They're 'happy'.  They think they have a…” he paused for a moment, considering his words before choosing, “good bead on things.”  
  
Yet, the prospective agent had only moments ago seen proof of extraterrestrial life, causing an immediate question to burst from his lips.  
  
“Wh-why the big secret?” the officer argued.  “People are smart.  They can handle it.”  
  
“A _person_ is smart,” his recruiter replied, before retorting, “ _People_ are dumb, panicky, dangerous animals, and you know it.”  Kay's words silenced the argument immediately, leading into a historical perspective on the matter.  “Fifteen hundred years ago, everybody 'knew' the Earth was the center of the universe.  Five hundred years ago, everybody 'knew' the Earth was flat.  And fifteen minutes ago, you 'knew' that people were alone on this planet.”  With a heavy sigh, Kay pondered, “Imagine what you'll 'know' tomorrow.”  
  
James could not deny the older man's point.  In each of the situations he described, people had vehemently wrestled with conflicting knowledge, even persecuted a dissenting voice.  In his career as a policeman, James had seen what frightened and bigoted people could do to one another, let alone a visitor from another star.  He started to picture what might become of the citizens of New York City, or of the visitors themselves, if the existence of the latter were revealed to the former.  
  
His thoughts then returned to his own circumstances.  Now knowing the reality of extraterrestrial life, he considered how would his life change, particularly if he accepted this job set before him.  
  
“What's the catch?”  
  
“The catch?” the older man answered gravely.  “The catch is you will sever every human contact.  Nobody will ever know you exist anywhere.”  Turning to face Edwards directly, Kay added, “Ever.”  
  
The thought dumbstruck the officer.  He could never contact his family again, neither the side he despised nor the side he adored.  He could never drop by the usual haunts of his fellow NYPD officers for a beer.  Regarding the scale of the secret involved, this stipulation seemed obvious in retrospect, but he had not actually broached the notion until now.  
  
As Kay stood to leave, he stated, “I'll give you 'til sunrise to think it over.”  
  
Edwards sat in thought for a moment, but then thought about his recruiter, someone who has lived this life for decades now.  As life-altering as this decision was, perhaps he could have some insight.  
  
“Hey,” James called to the agent, spurring him to look back one last time.  “Is it worth it?  
  
Straight-faced, Agent K replied, “Oh yeah, it's worth it,” before taking a few strides and adding, “if you're strong enough.”  
  
All night, James Edwards III sat on that bench and weighed his options, swaying between leaving his entire life behind in favor of this tremendous opportunity.  The sheer novelty and wealth of information being offered enticed him immediately.  Rather that merely cleaning the streets of New York City, he would be protecting the planet Earth itself from dangers on a cosmic scale.  Admittedly, he could never tell a soul beyond his future colleagues, but the grandeur of the position seduced him.  
  
The next morning, James returned to the MiB headquarters, where he was christened “Agent J” and partnered with Kay to be trained.  Shortly afterward, the pair came to investigate the assassination of Gentle Rosenberg, setting them against the insectoid killer and involving the uninitiated Dr. Laurel Weaver.  Over the course of two days, Jay and Kay successfully tracked the bug and cornered him, preventing him from escaping with the Galaxy, a miniature celestial system in Rosenberg's care.  Admittedly, Laurel actually saved them by killing the bug with one final shot from Jay's weapon.  
  
After returning to headquarters, Laurel's help in the case weighed heavily on his conscience.  Not only had she saved both his life as well as Kay's, but she had also had her memory erased at least three times during their visit to the morgue the previous evening.  While Laurel lingered at the parked Crown Victoria, Jay pulled Kay aside for a moment.  
  
“Kay,” he started, looking for the right words, “look I know we got these rules and everything, but I was thinking she did help us bust that bug.  Maybe we didn't have to 'flashy-thing' her.”  
  
The mentor agent glanced back at Laurel for a moment before pulling a silver, pen-like device from his jacket.  Jay had seen this implement used several times over the course of the past two days.  A standard issue neuralizer, it had the capability to isolate memory engrams and lock them from conscious recall, effectively erasing them.  In a flash, all memory of the target person's encounter with the Men in Black and any extraterrestrial would become like a half-forgotten dream.  The small red eye on the tip of the tool glowed seemingly innocuously, despite the grave effect it would soon have.  Jay had little doubt that Kay intended to remove Laurel's memory of tonight.  
  
“Kay,” he argued, “come on, man.  Who's she gonna tell?  She hang out with all dead people.”  
  
However, his trainer corrected him, “It's not for her.  It's for me.”  
  
While the device slide open to reveal its setting dials, confusion filled Jay's mind.  
  
_What does he mean “for me”?_ the young man thought.  
  
Awkwardly, Kay glanced up to the sky wistfully, or as wistful as a grizzled company man could be.  
  
“They're beautiful, aren't they?”  
  
Blankly, Jay just stared at his compatriot before the elder man clarified, “Stars.  I… I never look at them anymore, but they actually are quite…” he paused again, looking at the sky with a more melancholic expression in his eyes, “… beautiful.”  
  
The newly minted agent followed his partner's gaze into the air, still unsure as to his meaning.  Confused and a little apprehensive, the former policeman turned to his fellow MiB operative and stated, “Uh, Kay.  You're frightening your partner.”  
  
Finally, Agent K met his student's line of sight and explained his meaning explicitly.  
  
“I haven't been training a partner.  I've been training a replacement.”  
  
Gobsmacked, Jay's heart sank.  While he had admittedly took childish jabs at his mentor throughout their time together, the thought of losing him had not occurred to the younger agent.  Truthfully, he had come to respect the salt-and-pepper haired man, not only for his experience and expertise, but also for his bravery and guidance.  For him to leave now just as Jay was gaining some meager grasp on this job seemed a cruel twist of fate.  
  
“Wait a minute, Kay,” the new agent protested.  “I cannot do this job by myself.”  
  
About that time, Laurel called out to them, “Hey, guys!  My apartment isn't anywhere near here.”  She folded her arms and added, “It's not even on the same island.”  
  
Honestly, although she had been on Jay's mind for the past couple days, her predicament could not compare with his struggle to grasp Kay's sudden announcement.  Refocusing, the former policeman watched as his mentor pointed to each dial on the neuralizer, each in turn.  
  
“Days.  Months.  Years.  Always face it forward.”  
  
As he handed the device to Jay, the neophyte hesitated before accepting it.  Not unlike a child, he was not ready to move forward, to relinquish the role and naivety of a newbie.  Kay had said that the young man would get his own neuralizer when he “grew up”.  Taking this small silver baton would signify not only becoming a full member of MiB, but also the loss of his teacher.  The mixed emotions churned deep in Jay's gut, only leaving him more reluctant.  
  
“Kay…” he began to protest.  
  
“I've just been down the gullet of an interstellar cockroach, kid,” the elder agent argued.  “That's one of a hundred memories that I don't want.”  
  
Gazing into Kay's haggard face, Jay could only imagine what the man had seen.  He had mentioned the Zeronian migration, as well as other events long preceding Jay's induction into MiB.  Answerless questions plagued Jay's thoughts, already muddled by emotions.  
  
_What had he seen that made him want to forget it all?_ Jay asked himself.  
  
One answer did arise.  The young man had already deduced Kay was the youth from the historical photograph, the one offering the flowers to the first official visitor to Earth.  Snooping over Kay's shoulder earlier today, he had learned that the older man longed for Elizabeth Ann Reston, the woman he had planned to meet that night, who never married, who once in a while looked up into the sky, where Kay gazed back through a satellite.  
  
_Maybe it's her_ , Jay thought.  
  
With one last nod, Kay readied himself while Jay sadly donned his black sunglasses, to protect his own eyes from the neuralizer's effect.  On principle, the former policeman hated the idea of tampering with someone's memory.  He even noted the trouble such tampering could cause when Kay neuralized Laurel so quickly after Rosenberg's death, losing her testimony as a witness.  However, to do this to another agent, his mentor, his friend, made him hate this necessary evil all the more.  
  
Yet, Kay welcomed it with a smile.  “See you around, Jay.”  
  
Raising the neuralizer, Jay resigned himself to this grim task.  
  
“No.  You won't.”  
  
In a flash, all of Kay's time with MiB was locked away in his head, stunning him into a malleable stupor.  In this state, a suggestion would be enough to ignite his imagination to fill the void left by the missing memories.  Considering Kay had served MiB since its inception, many questions would need to be answered.  However, Jay had an answer for one of them.  
  
“You've been in a coma for about 35 years,” the new agent fabricated.  “You missed your date with Elizabeth, and she's still waiting for you.”  
  
In about a minute, the dazed effect faded, and Jay's mentor glared at him quizzically for a moment before wandering into the dark of the night without another word.  Somberly, Jay removed his sunglasses and sighed heavily.  In a way, he had just killed one of the first members of this covert organization, and that weight bore upon his shoulders.  
  
The next couple of hours were a blur of business.  Shortly after Kay's departure, Zed exited the headquarters' facade with one of his aides, Agent O.  While Oh escorted Laurel back to her apartment, likely to be neuralized like Kay, Jay followed Zed back into the main complex.  Admittedly, the young man did attempt to protest, hoping to spare Laurel her memories of tonight, but the chief would have nothing of it.  
  
Once at Zed's office, Jay met a finely dressed gentleman, rather ordinary considering the talking dogs and giant insects he has seen already today.  However, the man's face hissed and swung open like a door, revealing a minute alien hominid riding within the gentleman's head.  The body itself was merely a vehicle, controlled by the many levers and pedals surrounding its small pilot.  Jay had briefly met an Arquillian like this one before, Rosenberg as he lay dying from the bug's sting.  
  
The former NYPD officer finished his mission by handing over the silver fob containing the Galaxy to this Arquillian representative.  Naturally, the small man thanked Jay for his heroism, as well as apologized for the threat of planetary annihilation.  Irate about the global threat, as well as upset over Kay's departure, Jay opened his mouth to unleash his anger on this diplomat, but thankfully for all involved, Zed interjected and kept the remaining minutes of the meeting civil.  
  
After the Arquillian departed back to his planet with the Galaxy in tow, Zed turned to Jay and began, “Kid, I get that you're upset over Kay, but we don't need an interplanetary incident because of it.”  
  
“Then, how the hell am I supposed to feel, Zed?!” the new agent retorted.  “No one told me that I was going to _replace_ Kay!  I basically _killed_ him today, the guy who not only recruited me, but also trained me!”  
  
“You _didn't_ kill him, sport.  You _retired_ him.  You freed him of having to remember all the real threats that necessitate MiB's existence.  He can enjoy a normal life, not worrying about the monsters hanging over our heads everyday.”  
  
“And, he's just supposed to go back to his life, after 35 years?  He was a _teenager_ on that dirt road, Zed!  How can you go from being a teenager to a 50-year-old man?”  
  
“He'll manage.  He's dealt with far worse in his career here, and we have counselors in place to help him rehabilitate to civilian life.  Like I said, it's all been arranged.”  
  
“And, what about Laurel?”  
  
With a heavy sigh, Zed folded his arms and rebuked, “You should worry more about yourself, son.  You've been up for nearly 48 hours, and I'd rather you not have a psychotic episode in my office.  I'm putting you off-duty to rest, as well as come to terms with Kay leaving.”  
  
The realization hit Jay the moment the words left Zed's mouth.  The adrenaline of the battle with the bug had only started to subside, sustained by the suddenness of Kay's retirement.  Now, the aches and tiredness of the past two days finally weighed on his eyes, despite his vehement desire to argue with Zed.  
  
“Take some time and get your head straight,” the chief reiterated.  
  
Ultimately, Jay conceded.  As the dawn sun began to crest over the waters of New York Harbor, the young man found himself on the same bench where Kay offered him this job, his job.  Thoughtfully, he examined the neuralizer inherited from his mentor, remembering the people upon which the veteran had used this device.  Each had been briefly reflected in its silvery finish before having chunks of their memory locked away by it, Laurel included.  
  
_Maybe me too_ , Jay thought, _at some point.  Hell, maybe even everyone in town._  
  
However, he considered how those people might react if they kept their memories, knowing that a monstrous creature like the bug could be hiding beneath the skin of anyone.  Some people would become paranoid, even insane, with knowledge like that.  As Officer Edwards, he had seen a few fellow cops crack, seeing everyone on the street as a perpetrator.  Those policemen eventually received counseling, or were outright discharged in some cases.  Truthfully, Kay was right.  
  
_For the moment anyway_ , the new agent qualified.  
  
Then, there was Kay.  Despite the rebellious attitude Jay gave his mentor, the trainee did respect the veteran.  He seemed unflappable, stoic, knowledgeable about nearly every situation he handled.  The man appeared invincible, regardless of his age, and part of Jay had hoped to learn more from him.  The two had a chemistry, the older's aloofness contrasting to the younger's sarcasm, and Jay already missed picking at Kay, as well as the sharp retorts that came in return.  
  
_So now what?_ he asked himself.  
  
For now, Zed was right.  The office had arranged for Jay's belongings to be moved to a new apartment not far from Battery Park, his new covert home.  Soon, he would head there and sleep off this first case, but he wanted to sit at this bench one more time, to think, to remember.  
  
As he pocketed the neuralizer, Jay whispered, “See you around, Kay.”

 

* * *

  
  
Chief Agent Z had served with the Men in Black organization nearly since its inception.  Alongside the slim few of the old guard, he had been personally recruited in 1959 by Chief Agent A, the first leader of the group.  Zed had only just finished officer training with the U.S. Army, and the offer to work as a “secret agent” seemed too tempting to ignore.  
  
However, the original agency was hardly glamorous.  In the early days, the group received little funding and was regarded as a joke by the government at large.  As a testament to the paucity of money, the original headquarters was located in downtown Manhattan under Anita's Nails, a manicure parlor.  His pride ached every day for two years entering that facade door, feeling judging eyes of the uninitiated watching him enter a “woman's domain” for work.  
  
Thankfully, the fateful first contact came on 2 March 1961, when the Baltians first arrived.  Zed was there to welcome them along side Agents A, D, H, Q, T, and X, as well as an astronomer and Kevin Brown, the young man who would become Kay.  All of their hard work became vindicated when Kevin handed the Baltian ambassador a bouquet of flowers and solidified the peaceful cooperation between Earth and Baltia.  
  
Unfortunately, the astronomer could not handle what he was witnessing.  In a panic, he ran from the scene only to be restrained by Dee and Tee.  Ay considered killing him, but the Baltian ambassador had a nonlethal alternative.  He produced a device that flashed a red light at the man's eyes and seemingly wiped his memory of the past few hours, rendering the issue effectively handled.  Eventually, the device would be miniaturized and made available to all field agents as the neuralizer, the key to the organization's secrecy.  
  
Still, everyone present recognized the astronomer's reaction would not be uncommon.  The world was not yet ready to know of extraterrestrial life, and Chief A chose to take the organization underground.  He severed all ties with the United States government, making the MiB an independent entity charged with the monitoring and regulation of the alien presence on Earth.  Since then, the Baltians returned every decade to exhibit new technologies, which the MiB patented to fund their continuing existence.  
  
For four years, MiB grew under Ay's watch, soon moving to its current location under Battery Park.  Young Kevin Brown, now Agent K, became Ay's pupil, learning straight from the chief himself and rising to prominence as one of the best members of the agency.  At the time, Zed was teamed with Eks, who himself had served as a senior officer with the Army in Korea before joining MiB.  Together, they set the standard for many field procedures when handling dangerous aliens.  On the other hand, Ay put Kay with Dee, a former Secret Service agent having served in various embassies in D.C.  The two mostly followed the rules set by Zed and Eks, but had a habit of insubordination and bending their orders.  Needless to say, Zed and Kay butted heads from time to time, needing Ay or Eks to intervene.  
  
However, all the first encounters with extraterrestrial visitors blinded them all to Ay's ambitions.  He obsessed over new alien technologies, to say nothing of the modifications and adaptations constructed by Agents H and Q.  Several cases were taken by Ay personally, by himself, with no one to corroborate his story.  Since he was chief, most everyone fell in line, except for Kay.  Finally in 1965, Kay followed Ay on a bust of some Verulian smugglers, finding the Verulians killed and Ay in possession of a cosmic integrator, a device he himself had outlawed.  Ay offered to take Kay on the “ultimate thrill ride” across the universe, but the young agent kept to his principles.  Disappointed, Ay shot his protégé and left him for dead, soon leaving Earth under a new name, “Alpha”.  
  
Alpha's betrayal rocked the MiB and left the organization disillusioned and leaderless.  Though Kay did recover from his wounds, his youthful zeal was replaced with a humorless dedication to the rules and ethic of the MiB.  From the chaos, Eks rose to become the new chief with a new primary rule:  all MiB agents must be paired with a partner to avoid another such incident.  Even the chief would have someone to balance him, which was the role taken first by Zed.  Since Eks and Zed had already been partners for some time, they were able to hold MiB together in the aftermath of Alpha's betrayal.  
  
The next seven years passed rather well as the agency grew stronger and more established.  Chief X notably oversaw the deployment of the Arc Net defense system around Earth as well as the construction of the LunarMax penitentiary on the moon.  Unfortunately, Eks was already showing his age and chose to “retire” in 1972, opting to be neuralized and pass his position onto Zed.  In turn, Agent O, who had been recruited after Alpha's betrayal, rose to balance Zed.  
  
As chief himself, Zed continued Eks's legacy by expanding MiB's influence and forging treaties with numerous other extraterrestrial governments.  Most notably, Zed sat down with leaders of the Galactic Union in July 1982 to establish formal relations between Earth and the GU.  Grand Marshall Kuramitsu Minami of the Galaxy Police was himself involved in the talks, and the two set the rules of jurisdiction and collaboration between the MiB and the GP.  This landmark opened the MiB to the galaxy at large, leading to exchange programs and joint efforts with extraterrestrial organizations.  
  
Yet, time marched forward.  Recently, Kay retired Dee and soon asked to be retired himself, after he trained a suitable replacement.  Naturally, Kay picked a protégé with the same problem with authority that he had.  However, Zed did not fault him in his choice.  James Edwards III, now Agent J, certainly showed promise, not unlike his father.  
  
When Kay proposed Jay as his replacement, Zed researched the young man's background and discovered a file from Kay's involvement in the Arc Net's deployment in July 1969.  At the time, MiB did not have any of its own spacecraft so Kay had had the device piggyback on the Apollo 11 launch.  The assassin Boris “the Animal” had attempted to interfere in order for his Boglodite race to invade Earth.  During the encounter, Colonel James Edwards II, Jay's father, had become involved and had sacrificed himself to save Kay.  The agent had then found young James III nearby and had had to neuralize him to erase the memory of this tragedy.  In a way, Kay recruited Jay to fulfill this old debt of honor.  
  
While Zed was hesitant to allow James III to be included with the other candidates, Kay's insistence eventually convinced the chief to provide the opportunity.  Edwards certainly did have the talent and skill, though his attitude was less than desirable.  Most of the MiB were ex-military, like the other candidates with James.  All of them knew how to keep secrets and follow orders, yet that was what Alpha nearly used to destroy the organization.  A blunt and honest voice was needed to balance the silence.  Kay's arguments finally swayed Zed, and James became Agent J.  His performance in the field against the bug assassin, as well as that of Dr. Laurel Weaver, impressed Kay.  While Jay and Laurel were talking after the incident, Kay contacted Zed to confirm his retirement, and to arrange for an offer to the good doctor.  
  
As one might expect, Jay did not take the news of Kay's departure very well and had to be talked down.  Since an Arquillian battle cruiser had been threatening Earth from orbit, stresses had been running high for everyone.  Zed understood the sentiment, having retired Eks himself years ago, so he forgave the young man's harsh words.  The chief ordered the new agent off-duty to rest and reflect on all that had happened.  
  
Now on his third cup of coffee for the morning, Chief Z stood gazing through a pane of one-way glass at his newest “crisis du jour”.  While MiB had been busily evacuating most of the extraterrestrial dignitaries off-world during the Arquillian ultimatum, a small ship had seemed to confront the threatening battle cruiser.  The crystalline vessel was registered in the database shared with the Galaxy Police as the pirate battleship _Ryo-Ohki_ , notorious for many daring heists and malicious mischief over the last five years.  Yesterday, while Jay and Kay had been investigating Rosenberg's jewelry store, the black gemstone craft had approached the Arquillian military ship and had been shot down, landing in Lower New York Bay.  
  
With most of his agents facilitating emergency departures, Zed had not been able to send anyone to drag _Ryo-Ohki_ from the bay until this morning.  Needless to say, several cover stories were written and distributed to mask the crash, ranging from an amateur boating accident to a meteor impact.  Since the event had occurred deep in the bay, the witnesses had only included a few fishermen, who had been neuralized by the cleanup crew on arrival.  The pirate battleship was currently locked down next to the bug assassin's vessel in the MiB's covert hangar.  
  
However, the cleanup crew had found more than a ship at the site.  On the beach near the alien craft, three rather unique women had been seen:  one unconscious, another disoriented, and a third lucid.  Before the crew could detain all three, the lucid woman had urged her disoriented companion into a free-standing door, both vanishing along with the door itself.  Only their unconscious associate had been brought to the office.  
  
And, there she laid on the other side of the one-way glass from Zed, the space pirate Ryoko, owner and pilot of _Ryo-Ohki_.  Agent H had examined her, finding that she only suffered from a mild concussion, likely from the crash last night.  Afterward, she had been moved to this isolated cell in MiB's lower level lockdown, behind two security checkpoints and two reinforced titanium bulkheads.  While Zed was still reading her GP case file, he had read enough of her escapades to consider her too dangerous for the holding facility upstairs.  Moreover, her ship had appeared during the Arquillian incident.  
  
Laying on a cot in the spartan room, the cyan-maned fury seemed far less imposing than her case file suggested, just an ordinary woman with a wild hairstyle.  Thankfully for Zed, his career with MiB had taught him not to underestimate anyone.  While she might not have tentacles extending from her fingertips or a vicious maw of teeth, one does not earn the title of “space pirate” through kind acts.  
  
In his hand, Zed held a manila folder containing hard copies of the warrants for Ryoko's arrest by the GP, Case #80812029.  While the laboratory technicians were moving many of their files to handheld data tablets, the chief still preferred flipping real pages.  As he read through the pages, he found numerous reports dating back to 1994 and before:  robbery of transport convoys, drunken piloting, a bombing on the planet Concor, a heist on a branch of the Bank of Jurai, theft of prize money from a swimsuit competition on the planet Heliotropis, to say nothing of several engagements with the GP and a bounty hunter simply named “Nagi”.  Notably, however, her record seemed to be completely clear since spring 1995.  In fact, some reports said she was dead.  
  
Yet, here she was, in his high security facility.  
  
Finally, she began to stir, rolling her head to the side as she groaned.  Her hand rested against her forehead as she shielded her eyes from the bright light above her.  When her amber eyes cracked open, she quickly sat up, unfamiliar with the reinforced gray walls around her.  
  
_Where the hell am I?_ she asked herself as her eyes scanned over the room.  
  
Her gaze narrowed into a scowl when she noticed the one-way mirror, not an uncommon sight for one in her profession.  However, the design did not fit the usual Galaxy Police incarnation she knew well.  The mirror was at least a meter taller, to say nothing of the ceiling above her, which was easily three times her height.  This room was constructed to hold something far larger than her, which also ruled out the minute mech-riding Arquillians as well.  
  
Her piercing feline pupils focused on the mirror, on her crisp reflection in the glass.  She knew well someone was on the other side of the glass, given the few brief times the GP had managed to snare her.  Then, her eyes caught an image in the corner of the mirror, just out of her line of sight until now.  She found a sealed door in the wall to her left, and her lips stretched into a sly smile.  
  
“Whoever you are,” she threatened, “you'd better start running.”  
  
The lady pirate extended her palm towards the door as ruby rays of light sparked into existence and coalesced into her grasp.  At her fingertips, an orb of ethereal power shone brightly at her command before she willed it to fly at the door.  Ordinarily, a blast like this one would blow a hole into whatever object, or person, she desired.  
  
Yet, the red energy pulse reflected off a barrier a few centimeters from the door's surface.  Ryoko ducked while the ball of light ricocheted between the walls of her cage, soon dissipating from the various impacts.  With a scowl, the extraterrestrial woman rose back to her feet.  
  
“Shielded,” she acknowledged.  “Not as stupid as the Galaxy Police.”  
  
At her side, she opened her right hand and summoned another energy pulse, but as she closed her fingers around the construct, molding it into a blade and hilt.  Like her explosive bolt, this beam sword could cut through many materials with ease, its humming vibration and focused heat sheering matter almost effortlessly.  
  
“Let's see how strong it is.”  
  
With a great swing, she lunged at the door with her weapon, ruby sparks flying from the point of contact.  However, the barrier refused to yield despite strike after strike from her crimson blade.  
  
Zed watched silently, noting her methods of manipulating this ethereal energy, evidently a racial trait from the pirate's dossier.  He also recognized her words as the common Cerulian dialect spoken throughout the Galactic Union.  The language itself was not unlike Japanese, and a few agents have even proposed some loose ties between the linguistics of the two.  Versed in Cerulian among numerous other alien tongues, the chief understood everything she said, even the curses she uttered under her breath in frustration.  
  
When the pirate lowered her blade, considering her next move, Zed's voice sounded from the corners of the room around her.  
  
“It's based on Archanan technology,” he spoke in Cerulian to her.  “I doubt your little sword will cut through it.”  
  
Whipping her hand at the glass, her sword left her grip and flew into the barrier, exploding on contact.  However, just like the door, the mirror remained untouched, protected by the same shield.  Her amber eyes glared at the reversed images in the pane before her, the irritation plain in her face.  
  
“Aren't you the firecracker?” Zed commented offhandedly.  
  
Ryoko recognized the Cerulian language, as well as the implied authority in his voice, clearly law enforcement of some kind.  Already, she had ruled out the Galaxy Police and the Arquillians from last night, so that only left the native Terrans, who should not have this kind of technology.  
  
“And, who the hell are you supposed to be?” she demanded.  
  
“At the moment, I'm your jailer,” he answered frankly.  “For a lovely young woman, you sure know how to get yourself into a lot of trouble.”  
  
“Don't try to play me,” the criminal retorted.  “You're not the Galaxy Police.”  
  
“No,” he admitted, “but we have official ties with them.  We are the Men in Black, the organization that polices the extraterrestrial presence on this planet.”  
  
“Alright, Mr. 'Man in Black',” she mocked while seating herself on the cot, “then why didn't you come and investigate when I first arrived on Earth almost three years ago?  Hell, where were you when Nagi showed up, or when a Juraian battleship came nosing around?”  
  
“Ah, yes”, he remembered.  “I remember that Juraian battleship, as well as the yacht that preceded it.  Princess Ayeka's _Ryu-Oh_ , correct?”  
  
“Yeah, that's the one.”  
  
“Our jurisdictional agreement with the Galaxy Police gives them jurisdiction of the Japanese islands,” the administrator explained, “while we have jurisdiction on the moon.  The agreement allowed us to keep LunarMax open, and also served as a sign of good will toward them.  Besides, the GP seem to like Japan for some reason.”  
  
He closed the folder and stepped closer to the mirror, meeting her eyes though she could not see him.  
  
“Whatever you did in Japan was on their watch,” he said, “but last night, you crashed into our territory.  With a record like yours, we usually just deport you outright, or stick you in LunarMax until the GP can pick you up.”  
  
“Fine,” Ryoko replied, throwing her hands in the air.  “Send me back to Japan.  I'm ready to go.”  
  
Zed shook his head and answered gravely, “I mean, deported back to your planet of origin.  That would be the planet Ryua in the Jurai Empire, wouldn't it?”  
  
The pirate's eyes grew hard as she heard the threat in his words.  
  
“Since we would be handing you over to _our_ liaison with the GP, _not_ the resident officers,” he added, “you would likely be arrested on sight for piracy.”  
  
She shot to her feet and angrily responded, “I have _not_ broken the law in the last two years, you bastard!”  
  
“The statute of limitations on your crimes is _ten_ years, my dear.”  
  
“Hey!  I helped get Ayeka back to Jurai, and I helped the GP take out Kain,” she argued.  “Doesn't _that_ count for anything?”  
  
“Admittedly, Ms. Ryua, several of these files list you as _dead_ after the coup d'etat on Jurai, and _none_ of these files talk about a 'Kain',” he stated bluntly.  “Regardless of your deeds, no pardon has ever been issued.  You are still held accountable for your criminal activities.”  
  
“That's bullshit!” the rogue barked back as she spun away from the mirror, infuriated.  
  
“I shouldn't be surprised that you swear like a sailor,” Zed mused, “but we're not going to hand you over to the GP just yet.”  
  
Her temper boiling, Ryoko glanced back while her arms folded.  
  
“You showed up right after an Arquillian dignitary was assassinated,” the chief mentioned.  “That's pretty coincidental.  Too bad I don't believe in coincidence.”  
  
“You think _I_ had something to do with that?” Ryoko surmised.  
  
“You did crash into the bay after confronting the battle cruiser.  What were you doing up there anyway?”  
  
“It wasn't _my_ idea,” she admitted.  “Washu found the ship threatening to blow up the planet unless _you_ gave them 'the Galaxy'.  She roped me and Ayeka into going up there, as if the little princess could talk those mech-riding bastards out of anything.”  
  
Surprised, Zed raised a brow.  “Princess Ayeka was _with_ you?”  
  
Ryoko smirked and shook her head, amused.  “You have _no_ idea who I live with, do you?”  
  
“Where is she now?”  
  
“Hell if I know,” the prisoner replied with a shrug.  “Last thing I remember was crashing into the bay.”  
  
The chief's mind raced.  With a former heir to Jurai's throne roaming free around Manhattan, the situation could quickly devolve into another interstellar incident.  Moreover, obtaining her and the third accomplice in this little incident would certainly make this picture clearer.  Already, he was sifting through available field agents to locate and recover the wayward princess.  
  
Meanwhile, Ryoko smiled to herself.  “You got real quiet all of a sudden.  Not liking the idea of a Juraian princess lost in your city?  Scared she might break a nail?”  
  
“We will find her, Ryoko,” Zed assured her.  “You, however, can cool your heels for a few hours right here.”  
  
“Have fun hunting down the princess, dumbass,” the young woman sung as she laid back on the cot.  
  
The lead agent clicked off the microphone as he watched her lounging, humming a mocking tune.  While her immaturity was quite evident, the youthful pirate girl had spirit and street savvy.  He had heard about the coup on Jurai vicariously through his sources in the GP, remembering clearly that she had been associated with Ayeka at the time.  Her story had elements of truth to it, though he would not accept it as fact until he had corroborating evidence.  Finding her two companions became the new priority to put this case finally to bed.  As he left the observation room, Zed took one more glance at the space pirate, seemingly comfortable in her element.  
  
On the other hand, as Ryoko hummed to herself, she was analyzing her situation:  locked in a shielded room, Ryo-Ohki likely regenerating under guard here too, and Ayeka and Washu clearly not in custody of these “Men in Black”.  Though these agents were not as moronic as the Galaxy Police, they still had their flaws, just like this cage.  Already, she was churning ways to escape, especially if she got in contact with her cabbit partner.  Her smile widened as she thought about the fun to be had wrecking this secret base.  
  
_All in good time_ , she reminded herself.

 

* * *

  
Olivia Cunningham had always been a highly intelligent woman.  Raised in London, England, her high marks in scientific analysis and creativity won her much praise and attention by her schoolmasters.  By age 18, several universities throughout Britain scouted her for admission, urging her to be the next Rosalind Franklin or Kathleen Lonsdale.  
  
However, another organization scouted her.  The Torchwood Institute dated back to a royal decree of Queen Victoria on 31 December 1879, established to protect the British Empire from extraterrestrial threats.  The queen herself had recently escaped from an werewolf-like creature rampaging through the Torchwood Estate, for which the organization was named.  Since that time, Torchwood instigated any and all alien encounters within the British sphere of influence, establishing branches throughout the empire as it grew.  Notably, the three main branches of the institute resided in London, Glasgow, and Cardiff.  Unofficially, their motto became “If it's alien, it's ours.”  
  
Sadly, this motto nurtured an increasingly vicious and aggressive attitude amongst the agents of Torchwood.  Stories of needless execution of benign, or even benevolent, visitors for their technology were commonplace, tolerated due to the boon for engineering and military development.  Often, the name “Torchwood” would be whispered and feared by police and other officials when strange occurrences would begin.  
  
To a young Olivia, the chance to investigate and understand the fringe caught her attention, seducing her to join the Torchwood Institute in May 1965.  Assigned to Torchwood One in London, she spent many hours reading and researching in the archives of Torchwood Tower at Canary Wharf.  While her eyes opened to the marvels of a technology and biology far beyond her studies, she also was exposed to the brutality of the institute.  She never saw the ruthlessness in person, but always became involved in the aftermath, studying artifacts splattered with blood or riddled with bullet holes.  By September, the young woman wanted away from the office.  
  
After many pleas, she finally snared an opportunity for a field assignment, a simple scouting mission.  The musician Mick Jagger of Rolling Stones fame was identified as a visitor, and some female agents were needed to pose as groupies in order to investigate him.  While she grimaced at the stereotype, she would rather act enthralled by a musician than spend another night cleaning blood off a console.  
  
During the London show on 17 October, Olivia was heading backstage to continue her observations of Jagger when she encountered a group of Americans working security detail for the concert.  Since the Rolling Stones were an English band performing in England, her suspicions of these Yanks rose immediately.  As a unit, Olivia and her Torchwood colleagues attempted to gain entry to the band's dressing rooms.  Since all of them were female, several attempted to flirt and wile their way past the Americans, yet one man in particular refused to step aside or let his compatriots succumb to the ladies' influence.  
  
The others addressed this man as “Kay”, a stone-faced gentleman, complete with the square-jaw and colloquial American accent.  Dressed in formal suit like his fellows, he commanded the others' respect, despite being at most 25 years of age.  He reminded Olivia vaguely of some cowboy heroes she had seen in some imported films.  
  
Ultimately, Kay's word overrode the wiles of the Torchwood operatives as the latter were escorted off the premises.  While the other agents attempted to regain access to the building, Olivia found her way to a nearby pub to reconsider her situation, both at the concert and with Torchwood.  She enjoyed learning about all the races and technology from beyond the heavens, but the cost of the institute's methods seemed far too high.  Still being young and new to the organization, she hardly had the authority to sway such an ingrained ideology.  
  
During the night, a few of the Americans arrived in the pub and took to relaxing after their duty, Kay in particular.  Still quite curious, Olivia engaged the young man in conversation, at first discussing the concert and Jagger.  However, as the crowd thinned, the two found themselves laughing and playing darts, genuinely enjoying one another's company.  She found him quite the charmer:  straightforward, practical, gallant, as well as handsome.  Neither of them wanted to leave that pub, despite its terrible food and warm beer.  
  
Yet, as the sun started to rise, she realized that this joyous evening was soon ending.  She would return to Torchwood One and resume her grisly work once again.  This thought, however, renewed her curiosity in Kay, as well as her suspicions.  
  
_Is he from some American agency?_ she asked herself.  
  
As she stood gazing at the sunrise on the horizon, she decided to test him.  “Mick Jagger isn't from England,” she mused idly while swishing an ounce of beer at the bottom of its bottle.  
  
“What makes you say that?” Kay replied after a swig of his own beverage.  
  
For the past several hours, Olivia had been listening to his voice, how he laughed and reacted.  She had seen him surprised, excited, and thoughtful.  He had no surprise in his words at all, from which she deduced that he already knew Jagger's real identity.  Thus, she showed no restraint when she gave her honest analysis.  
  
“His voice,” she explained coolly.  “Its overtones can't be modulated by any known arrangement of human vocal cords.  Those tones can cause an aphrodisiac-like reaction, which is why so many women swoon for him.”  
  
The man's eyes narrowed.  “How would you know that, Miss Olivia?”  
  
Her eyes slid to meet his.  “I've been analyzing band's recordings since we identified him.”  
  
He set his bottle on a nearby table.  “Who is 'we'?”  
  
She heard a new edge to his tone, anxiety perhaps.  She estimated that his employer likely was not aware of other agencies across the world, even believing only they were investigating extraterrestrial lifeforms, not unlike Torchwood itself.  He might have never considered the issue before now.  
  
And, here they sat, two operatives from different organizations with the same general goal.  Olivia considered the choice to maintain the general mystique of Torchwood and report back to her superiors about this American agent, leaving him to wonder.  In some ways, her superiors would likely have preferred that choice.  
  
However, his charms and her distaste for her work environment motivated her to disobey.  
  
“I work for the Torchwood Institute,” she told him plainly.  “And, you're certainly not a roadie for the Stones.  Who do you work for?”  
  
The lady could see uneasiness take him, his mind likely churning on another cover story.  While she felt a bit guilty about breaking Torchwood's taboos, she already respected Kay more than any of her colleagues in London.  He did not seem the kind of man who would kill a visitor without reason.  She rested a hand on his, the contact bringing his attention back to her.  
  
“Kay,” she began, “I admit that I'm a bit shocked that an American agent would be here in England, but I'm not surprised that you exist.  It's a big world, and a bigger universe.  If we aren't alone in the universe, why would you think you're alone in your job?”  
  
Obviously, Olivia's words made an impression as he took a heavy breath and glanced to the side in thought.  The uneasiness was replaced by contemplation, no doubt weighing his next move.  Her hand squeezed his, holding his thoughts with her.  His eyes rose to hers when he finally answered.  
  
“I think I need to make a call.”  
  
“As do I.  How about we meet back here tonight, after all the phone calls, and some rest?”  
  
He smiled softly and nodded.  “I'd like that, Miss Olivia.”  
  
As they parted ways, the Torchwood operative caught her American counterpart stealing one more glance back at her.  
  
Returning to Torchwood One, Olivia made her report to her overseer, which raised several major questions.  What was this American agency?  Why were they investigating Jagger?  Where were they located?  What actions have they taken?  
  
While the ranking members of Torchwood discussed how to react to the existence of similar organization, Olivia met with Kay again in the London pub, where they enjoyed one another's company again.  Purposefully, they avoided talking about the issue hanging over both of them and focused on more mundane discussions, such as the Space Race and other normal world events.  
  
Olivia realized she was attracted to Kay, and through his actions, she could tell he was attracted to her as well.  However, neither of them acted on those feelings through the night, growing closer as friends, while that unspoken tension hung between them.  
  
Within a day, Kay returned to the United States, leaving Olivia to her job at Torchwood.  Thankfully, changes were under way.  By December 1965, the Torchwood Institute opened communications with Kay's American organization, the “Men in Black”.  To understand one another, the two agencies agreed to an exchange program, which involved not only sharing selected case files, but also one agent to be sent through training.  Since Olivia had first contacted the MiB, she was chosen as the Torchwood representative.  
  
In her training with MiB, Olivia was given the codename “Agent O” and underwent field training with supervision by Agent Z.  For two months, Oh studied the method of the MiB and found them far more to her liking than Torchwood's tactics.  The MiB had legitimate political ties to extraterrestrial governments like the Baltians and usually worked with visitors, rather than arrogantly stealing from them.  Many visitors actually had become residents around Manhattan, which gave her a great deal of case studies to investigate.  Moreover, the MiB had archives and storehouses of technology not only confiscated from the criminal element, but also donated by guests and dignitaries.  More information than she thought possible was available in New York.  
  
Yet, MiB was not ideal either.  From an older generation, Chief X had a racist streak and was often callous to the plight of alien residents.  Often, he would emphasize to her that human lives were his priority.  Similarly, he rarely allowed female agents into the field, stating their place was in the office.  Also, the agency was far more secretive than Torchwood, using the memory-erasing neuralizer to keep the existence of MiB almost entirely unknown.  On the other hand, Torchwood was known to, and feared by, other British organizations.  That said, Olivia had read some trials of a drug known as “Compound B67” designed by Torchwood that could effectively erase a person's memory.  However, this pharmaceutical was still a few years from practical use.  
  
And, then there was Kay.  Now on the same team, they could finally talk openly about their respective backgrounds.  Olivia was floored to discover Kay had been present at first contact in 1961 outside New York, and she heard plenty of other agents talk about him as one of the best agents in the organization.  Despite this, he remained just as plainspoken and earthy as when they met in London, which endeared him more to her.  
  
In February 1966, Olivia returned to Torchwood with her findings, just as the MiB representative returned to the United States.  From the two reports, the two organizations established formal relations, marrying their databases and hashing out jurisdictional practices.  Needless to say, Torchwood's more aggressive tactics came under considerable scrutiny by the MiB, particularly as the latter agency had open diplomatic relations with other planets.  Plenty of arguments ensued over these and other issues before guidelines were finally made.  Even over 30 years later, Torchwood and MiB clash on jurisdiction and dispute claim of cases.  
  
But, Olivia made her own decision.  She resigned from the Torchwood Institute and joined as a full-time agent with the MiB.  As a former Torchwood agent, she was often tapped when jurisdictional disputes arose, and her knowledge of alien technology made her an invaluable resource in assessing cases.  That experience also gave her a voice when dealing with extraterrestrial negotiations, bringing to the attention of both Eks and Zed.  Unfortunately, with Eks in charge, her upward rise was limited, overlooked for her sex in favor of her male peers.  
  
Likewise, any aspirations Oh had for Kay's affections went unrequited.  As she learned from the records, Kay had dedicated his life to his job ever since the betrayal of the first MiB chief, Alpha.  Thus, he adhered closely to MiB guidelines, one of which was no fraternizing between agents.  Moreover, he had been going to meet his first love, Elizabeth Reston, when the Baltians first arrived in 1961.  Part of him never quite let go of her.  That said, Kay and Oh still flirted often, the attraction still visible, even to the other agents.  Many of Oh's female peers in the office would gossip about the pair off and on.  
  
Thankfully, when Eks retired in 1972, Zed took his place.  Due to her substantial dealings with Torchwood and other agencies and governments, both terrestrial and not, he chose Agent O as his second-in-command.  Zed and the other remaining original Men in Black, including Kay, felt that while she was young, her global perspective and experience could serve better in the leadership than in pure research.  Though tentative at first, Oh accepted and has remained assistant chief to present.  
  
As her recognition grew, her relationship with Kay sadly grew distant.  Admittedly, she was busy with her work and he with his, but other events, and people, took their toll.  The death of Col. James Edwards II struck a cord with Kay, particularly having to neuralize the man's young son.  
  
Then, there was the Zarthan princess Lauranna, a topic Oh still refuses to discuss.  
  
However, when Kay requested to be retired a few days ago, Oh was stunned.  She knew he had been slowing down, but she had thought he might move into leadership or training rather than opt to be neuralized.  
  
“This isn't like you, Kay,” the assistant chief argued as she sat next to Zed during the meeting with Kay.  
  
“I'm 57 years old, Oh,” Kay retorted, “and I've been at this as long as Dee.  I'd like to leave a good record behind.”  
  
“Just because you feel age creeping on you doesn't mean you have to quit.  There are other jobs besides field work.”  
  
“And, I don't want them,” he barked back.  “I will not be stuck behind a desk or ordering a bunch of kids around.”  
  
Agent O was taken aback.  She knew he took pride in his work, an aspect she appreciated as his supervisor, but she had not accounted for how that pride would affect his view of his job.  Her imagination then pictured Agent K, the closer of so many legendary cases, reduced to teaching firearms safety or merely doing mundane paperwork.  The image broke her heart.  
  
Also, she would be lying if she said that she did not mind him leaving.  
  
While she recovered from that emotional blow, Zed agreed to Kay's retirement, provided he trained a replacement.  Ever ready, Kay had already chosen a successor in James Edwards III, the same young man he neuralized in 1969.  Deep in her heart, she knew that debt of honor would be repaid in due time.  Now a New York police officer, James had already been approached by Kay, who gave him a business card in the usual MiB way.  He should arrive the next morning for testing and, if all went well, a job offer.  
  
However, Oh was about to go off-duty after 24 hours in the office.  If Kay's retirement finalized in the next two days, she would likely never see him again.  A dread loomed in her chest as the meeting adjourned.  While Zed left the office, Oh grasped Kay's arm, stopping him.  
  
“Kay,” she started unsure of her words, “please reconsider this.”  
  
With a heavy sigh, he met her gaze with a tired look in his eyes.  “I've made my decision, Oh.”  
  
“And, I respect that,” she said halfheartedly, “but that doesn't…”  
  
Turning to her, he placed his hands gently on her shoulders.  Despite his stone-faced exterior, the veteran agent still had a heart, particularly for her.  
  
“… doesn't make it any easier,” he finished for her.  
  
In one last bold move, she snaked her arms around him and kissed him, the first and only time in their 30 years of flirtations.  He reciprocated, holding her close as a tear rolled down from her eye.  There they stood, sharing that one moment that would never come again.  
  
As they broke the kiss, Kay wiped that tear from her cheek.  
  
“I'm sorry, Olivia,” he whispered.  “I'll miss you.”  
  
Watching him leave, she admitted to herself, _No, you won't._  
  
For the next two days, Agent O retired to her covert abode in a nearby apartment building managed by the MiB.  As assistant chief, her work hours overlapped with Zed's in such a way that one would be active while the other slept and recuperated.  During the overlap time, they would brief one another on recent cases and would schedule any meetings that required the input of both.  Alone amongst her memorabilia from past cases, even some from her brief time with Torchwood, Oh tried in vain to put Kay out of her mind, to think about other times and other people.  However, his face kept creeping into her mind.  Even her dreams brought him back to her, giving her little rest.  
  
While she was away, Kay and his trainee Jay handled the assassination of Gentle Rosenberg, and the rookie proved to be worthy of his mentor's recommendation.  When she returned to work, the duo had already raced to save a Dr. Laurel Weaver from the assassin's clutches.  Immediately, she set to handling diplomacy with the Arquillian battle cruiser in orbit.  The ultimatum deadline was fast approaching, and she pushed for every second she could earn through her words.  Sadly, the Arquillians rarely changed their ultimata after issuing them, even with her skills as a negotiator.  
  
Thankfully, Kay called Zed after obtaining the Galaxy, the Arquillian's treasure and the assassin's actual goal.  Oh, in turn, signaled the Arquillians to send an ambassador to receive the Galaxy fob upon its arrival at Battery Park.  
  
Yet, this victorious news came laced with a somber truth.  Kay also confirmed his retirement by affirming the completion of Jay's training.  Moreover, he had been impressed by Dr. Weaver's part in stopping the assassin and recommended that she too be offered a chance at the MiB.  Zed bestowed the honor of making the offer to Oh, thinking the senior female agent would be the most appropriate figure for the task.  
  
Steeling herself, Oh joined Zed in welcoming Jay and Laurel to the Battery Park headquarters.  Kay was nowhere to be seen.  
  
_It's already done then_ , she told herself.  
  
While the chief escorted the newly minted agent into headquarters, the assistant chief drove the good doctor home, giving her the usual pitch for the Men in Black.  When the mortician asked about Kay, Oh kept her answer as vague as she could, maintaining her professional facade despite the sadness she carried inside.  
  
For the next few hours before sunrise, Oh drove the Crown Victoria through Manhattan, just thinking.  Laurel had asked if the job was “worth it”, and without hesitation, Oh had answered “yes”.  At this early hour, the roads were almost devoid of traffic, letting her drive through downtown without much effort.  This left her mind to ponder that question more fully.  Yes, she still believed the job had merit, to protect the planet from the scum of the universe, to give asylum to those beings who have nowhere else to go.  She had met so many creatures from distant worlds and backgrounds, finding each a home here in this very city.  
  
Then, she weighed the personal cost.  In 30 years since leaving Torchwood, she had watched several friends and colleagues come and go.  Some retired like Eks, Dee, and Kay, retaking their civilian lives.  Others were killed in the field.  Since becoming assistant chief, a portion of those losses became Oh's responsibility.  
  
Today, her burden seemed much heavier.  
  
As the sun rose, Oh returned to Laurel's apartment as arranged.  In her pocket, she kept a neuralizer in case the offer was denied, but pleasantly, it was unnecessary.  
  
“I'm in,” the doctor announced.  
  
_At least there is a silver lining_ , Oh admitted to herself.  
  
“Welcome to the Men in Black,” her new mentor answered with a soft smile.  
  
After leaving Dr. Weaver in the hands of the training team, Agent O seated herself across from Zed for their usual briefing.  She had thought most of the discussion would be in regard to returning dignitaries and the apologies of the Arquillian ambassadors, perhaps even some words about Jay or his mortician friend.  
  
Much to the contrary, another problem had arisen.  
  
“We have a new wrinkle in that Arquillian mess from last night,” Zed haggardly spoke.  
  
“Disregarding the alien battleship and the giant insect,” Oh sarcastically inquired, “I could only assume that Boris the Animal escaped LunarMax.”  
  
“No, more like Lauranna turning up on your doorstep.”  
  
The assistant chief glared coldly at her only superior.  Given the events of the past few days, she had little patience for talk of the Zarthans, let alone that woman.  
  
“I have half a mind to slap you,” she declared.  
  
“Go ahead,” he retorted as he slid a manila folder across the table to her.  “It might keep me awake.”  
  
Taking the folder, she was greeted with the criminal record of Galaxy Police Case #80812029, “Ryoko Ryua”, a young space pirate from the Jurai Empire.  
  
“We have this little hellcat locked away downstairs,” the chief explained.  “She got a little too close to the Arquillians last night.”  
  
“I don't see a problem, Zed,” she stated while skimming the file.  “We stick her in LunarMax and wait for Matsu to pick her up.”  
  
“There's where the wrinkle is,” the lead agent teased as he pointed back to the file.  “She wasn't alone.  She had two accomplices with her, and both escaped into the city.  She claims one of them is…”  
  
“… Princess Ayeka from Jurai,” Oh finished, her eyes reading through the documents on the coup d'etat on Jurai.  After the assassination of Rosenberg, an Arquillian prince, a Juraian princess lost in Manhattan was hardly the public relations nightmare the MiB needed next.  
  
“Like I said,” Zed reiterated gravely, “Lauranna all over again.”  
  
Despite her feelings on the subject, the assistant chief knew the gravity of the situation.  Ayeka was a foreign dignitary, royalty, not unlike Rosenberg or Lauranna.  When Serleena murdered Lauranna under MiB's guard, backlash swept through the galactic community.  “Earth is unsafe,” some said.  “They _let_ her die,” others whispered.  Of course, the Zarthans were upset, but far too busy with their war against Kyloth to worry about Earth.  Also, Zartha was a relatively small in the grand scheme.  In the case of Rosenberg, he was not under guard and his importance was never shared with the MiB.  
  
But, Jurai was anything but small.  The Jurai Empire spanned much of the Milky Way, larger than almost every other major power in the galaxy.  Politically, they were fairly isolationist, keeping to their own affairs for the last century.  Militarily, few other fleets could compare with the might of Jurai, making them seem nearly invincible.  Making an enemy of them would be a fatal mistake.  
  
And, Jurai would likely be more than upset if harm came to Ayeka.  She was once heir to the throne and returned to undo the overthrow of her nation, restored the monarchy, healed the unrest.  Despite relinquishing the throne to her great-uncle, many in the Jurai Empire and abroad held her in high regard.  
  
“Do we know where she is?” Oh asked.  
  
“Not yet,” Zed replied.  “I put three units on the streets looking for someone fitting her description.  Everyone else is tied up with returning dignitaries and residents.”  He rested a hand on her shoulder.  “I'm sorry to drop this on you after…”  
  
The English lady coolly gazed back at him, unmoved.  “He'd want us to do the job, yes?”  
  
Somberly, her superior silently concurred.  
  
“Then, you get some rest,” she advised.  “I'll handle this situation.”  
  
“Alright,” he conceded, “but just remember that the rest of us work here too.”  
  
“I'll keep that in mind.”  
  
As Zed stood to leave, he watched Oh shuffling through the documents on Ryoko, familiarizing herself with the pirate.  Though tired, he worried about her.  Kay chose a horrible time to retire, and the chief knew she would take it hard.  Like with Jay, Zed hoped Oh would not lose her composure at an inopportune moment.  However, unlike Jay, she was a veteran and professional agent.  He was confident she could keep herself together in this minor crisis.  
  
For now, the old soldier could use a beer, to toast his friend's retirement, and a long sleep, to clear his mind of this wretched affair.


	4. Lost in New York

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lost in New York, Ayeka and Washu seek help from someone with years of experience in intergalactic politics, Frank the Pug. Elsewhere, the newly minted Agent L is assigned to find the pair.

Idly, Jezibel Kimitan watched the sparring match below.  As she reclined slightly to the side of her seat, her jade eyes followed the blond Nerti Ro dodging and striking at her male adversary, her instructor.  The man's spikes of green hair barely slipped from the hook of her wooden scythe as he spun the length of his spear at her legs.  His feline amber eyes followed his student as she ducked and rolled to the side, soon regaining her footing, weapon held ready.  He stepped back, taking a defensive posture, drawing his spear's length slowly along his free hand, observing her closely, his elfin ears listening intently for her next attack.  
  
Jezibel, however, yawned.  Such physical conflict bored her when no blood was shed.  She loosened her control on Nerti during these practice sessions, letting the girl's subconscious and analytical faculties learn from the exchanges while keeping her free will suppressed.  In so doing, the blond young woman could neither rebel against instructions nor flee from the influence of the Kimitan witch.  Nerti was simply a caged bird, singing on command, in preparation for the great chorus to come.  
  
Yet, the bird's talons were growing quite sharp as shown by how her instructor sweated in the next exchange.  Her blunt weapon swooped close to his neck twice, only narrowly dodged or deflected.  Her physical training was nearly complete, and the next phase would commence soon.  
  
Jezibel did smirk to herself as she thought of giving the girl a slight nudge, to be more aggressive, to slay her opponent.  
  
_How entertaining would that bout be?_ she asked herself.  
  
Before she could consider this scheme any further, an alert flashed on the arm of her seat.  Her lip curled at the annoyance while she lightly tapped the alert icon.  In front of her, a translucent rectangle appeared, displaying the insectoid face of the caller.  While his visage was twisted and stretched by the genetic treatment, Jezibel recognized Illirg's compound eyes and the eager loyalty they expressed.  
  
“Mission report, your highness,” the creature's voice grunted with a vaguely male tone.  
  
Jezibel grinned to herself.  Controlling a bug seemed very easy since they already were genetically predisposed to following orders.  Their biological hierarchy demanded that a worker caste like Illirg submit to any member of the royalty class, such as the queen.  All Jezibel needed do was supplant the image of the queen in his primordial brain with her own, and dominance immediately resulted.  While the genetic treatment administered by Nerti made his body exhibit traits of the royal and soldier castes, his brain remained purposefully unchanged to ensure his loyalty.  Now, he would obey any command, suffer any wound, only to earn the telepath's favor.  Moreover, she did not even need to be in close proximity to maintain her sway over him.  
  
“Very well,” she replied.  “Make your report.”  
  
“As instructed, I have arrived on Earth.  The active cloak prevented even the Arquillian battle cruiser from detecting my approach.”  
  
“Good,” the Kimitan witch answered.  “I assume then that you are on the planet's surface.”  
  
“I am, royalty,” he stated before adding, “but an issue has come up.”  
  
“Oh?” she inquired, a brow rising with her interest.  
  
“While I flew unnoticed with the Arquillian ship, I sighted a Ryoan Ohki-class organic ship coming from the planet.”  
  
A smile stretched across Jezibel's lips.  
  
“ _Ryo-Ohki_ , yes?” she asked, already knowing the answer.  
  
“Yes, your excellency,” he answered.  “As you commanded, I shot her down while the Arquillians fired on Earth.”  
  
While the galaxy at large heard conflicting accounts of Ryoko's demise on Jurai, some interested parties knew well that she had survived.  Though she could have fled back to the pirate guilds of her home-world, she instead flew to Earth, following her heart's desire.  
  
_And, a heart full of desire is fertile ground for the seeds of corruption_ , Jezibel reminded herself.  _All as my Lady has foreseen._  
  
“Well done, Illirg,” Jezibel praised.  “This changes your targets' priority.  Be sure to have the 'seed' ready when you encounter Ryoko.”  
  
“I will, my queen.”  
  
“Carry on.”  
  
With a wave of her hand, the communication screen vanished, ending the call.  Pleased, she smiled widely.  While Liaens thought only of his conquest of Jurai, Jezibel had far larger aspirations in mind.  
  
_Should Illirg fail_ , she reminded herself, _he will still have purpose in acquiring the pirate._  
  
Meanwhile, the mutated bug lightly slid his claws down a cylindrical container.  Within its transparent walls, a black flame writhed and flickered, burning higher as Illirg approached.  Against the wall nearest to the insect, the flames pressed against the surface and mimicked a face, smiling knowingly back at him.  Marked simply as “II”, the container was one of a pair, the other empty and marked “III”.  
  
“Anything for my queen,” Illirg reiterated.

 

* * *

  
Sunlight crept along the cheek of Jurai Ayeka, causing her to stir from her most uncomfortable sleep.  She raised a hand to her eyes not only to shield them from the encroaching sunbeam, but also futilely to settle the throbbing headache crushing her brain.  She rolled away from the light and cracked open her ruby eyes in the shadow, letting her pupils adjust more readily to the dimmer illumination.  Before her, she found a dingy beige wall, seemingly neglected for some period of time.  She laid upon a very stiff bed with a most unappealing pattern for the comforter:  plaid stripes interweaving between red, yellow, and orange at right angles.  
  
Sitting up, the princess of Jurai immediately felt disoriented and steadied herself with a hand against the wall.  Her skin crawled as she felt the icky texture of the surface, dusty and clammy, though she tolerated it in order to remain aloft.  Focusing through the throbbing of her head, the regal-tressed lady panned her eyes across the room, a most distasteful place to her sensibilities:  a splintering wooden door, lights with yellowing shades, poorly maintained furniture, and a ragged shag carpet.  
  
_Where am I?_ she naturally asked herself.  
  
“The princess awakes, does she?” Washu's voice remarked.  
  
Her eyes finished panning to the quite familiar figure of Hakubi Washu sitting within a levitating chair.  The redheaded genius turned away from the translucent computer terminal floating near her left hand and slid from her seat to stand at the Juraian woman's bedside.  
  
“Feeling any better?” the scientist inquired.  
  
“Washu?  Where are we?”  
  
“I guess the impact rattled you more than I thought,” Washu commented as she leaned closer and examined Ayeka's left cheek and temple.  “Do you remember anything from last night?”  
  
As the princess closed her eyes, her thoughts cleared slowly.  She remembered boarding _Ryo-Ohki_ and heading into orbit, to confront someone.  The Arquillian battle cruiser drifted through her mind's eye as she then recalled the pirate battleship shuddering around her, falling.  She manifested a barrier around herself and Washu, clinging to one another before blackness took her memory.  
  
“Yes,” the noblewoman acknowledged, “mostly.  There was an Arquillian ship in orbit, and we went to it.”  
  
“Right so far,” the researcher affirmed, meeting Ayeka's gaze.  “Do you remember what happened?”  
  
The princess's ruby eyes widened as the memory materialized.  “We were shot down!”  
  
The clouds of her mind parted, and the Juraian could vividly remember the atmosphere burning on all of _Ryo-Ohki_ 's screens, reentry.  She heard the urgency in Ryoko's orders to hold fast, her uncertainty when asked what hit them.  
  
Then, she realized another truth.  _Ryoko and Ryo-Ohki are not with us here._  
  
“Where are Ryoko and Ryo-Ohki?” the regal woman asked.  “Why are we in this… hovel?”  
  
While Ayeka flicked her hand away from the wall, disgusted, Washu answered, “When _Ryo-Ohki_ crashed, she teleported us to a beach nearby.  Your barrier protected both me and you from the impact, though the feedback from your barrier disoriented you pretty badly.  You basically had the psychic equivalent of a concussion.”  
  
Rubbing her clean hand through her violet hair, Ayeka nodded.  She knew well the psychic pressure caused from an impact on one of her barrier constructs due to her many spats with the cyan-maned pirate.  Usually, the stress incurred by her mind from one of these barriers was comparable to a pin-prick, an annoyance easily pushed aside.  
  
However, the force of a crashing starship is another matter entirely, and her consciousness reeled as a result.  
  
“Ryoko, on the other hand,” Washu continued, “was not in your barrier.  While she did steer _Ryo-Ohki_ into a bay rather than into the ground, or a city, she only protected herself right before impact.  She took a nasty hit and lost consciousness.  Likewise, Ryo-Ohki was not in any shape to move after the crash.”  
  
“So, where are they?” Ayeka insisted.  “They were our transport, and our defense, on this excursion.”  
  
Irritated, the genius replied, “I'm getting to that.  On the beach, I tended to both you and Ryoko until some black vans arrived.  Several teams of men in black suits poured out, armed with some rather heavy and violent-looking equipment, and headed right for us.  Also, several similarly painted boats started circling _Ryo-Ohki_ in the bay, tying what looked like tow cables around her hull.  Rather than be caught, I used my dimensional door to transport you and me to this cheap old hotel.”  
  
The princess recalled the scientist's useful tool.  Seemingly a free-standing door, it served to link two locations in normal space via a shortened subspace corridor, an artificial wormhole.  The technology was not unlike her subspace laboratory and the other-dimensional onsen connected to the bathroom.  
  
_Yet_ , the regal lady pondered, _only two of us are here._  
  
“Why didn't you bring Ryoko with us?”  
  
“It wasn't a matter of 'didn't' as much as 'couldn't',” Washu retorted.  “While you were very dazed, Ayeka, I could at least lead you into the doorway.  Ryoko was unconscious, and if you haven't noticed,” she added motioning to her short stature, “I can't exactly carry her by myself.  Moreover, you weren't exactly coherent enough to help.”  
  
Feeling some shame, the princess hung her head.  “I'm sorry, Ms. Washu.  I didn't mean to…”  
  
The scientist just waved the issue aside.  “Don't worry about it.  Your bell was rung enough for you to sleep half the day away.  The point is that these 'men in black' have likely taken Ryoko and Ryo-Ohki into custody, so we can't just fly home.  However, I'm not too worried about either of them at the moment.”  
  
“Why is that?”  
  
“I have been passively scanning the area, and I have noted well over a thousand non-Terran life signatures scattered around this island.  Some of them are not humanoid, so I expect they have some 'local help'.  Also, many of those signatures only appeared in the last few hours.”  
  
“As the planet was under siege, perhaps they left until the danger passed.”  
  
“I expect so, which means the battle cruiser probably isn't an issue any more.  Since these people investigated _Ryo-Ohki_ 's crash, they probably act as some policing agency for extraterrestrial visitation.”  
  
“Might these people be the same ones for whom the battle cruiser's message was meant?” Ayeka considered.  
  
“Quite possibly,” Washu agreed.  “From the tone of the message, they seem to have some amicable ties with Arquillia.  They are probably holding Ryoko for questioning about what happened last night.  Still, I haven't called back to Okayama, just to be safe.  We don't need to get caught along with Ryoko.”  
  
“Yet, I would like an explanation for the situation,” Ayeka insisted, “as well as knowing why we were shot down completely without provocation.”  
  
“Me too,” Washu concurred.  “Given how Ryoko reacted, I don't think the battle cruiser attacked us.”  
  
The regal-tressed woman folded her arms.  “Well, Ryoko is notorious as a space pirate, as is Ryo-Ohki.”  
  
“If Ryoko's reputation was the only reason,” the researcher argued, “the battle cruiser would have fired on her when we first approached, not waited for you, a princess of Jurai, to hail them three times.  Whoever fired on _Ryo-Ohki_ last night waited until the battle cruiser fired a warning shot at Earth before attacking.”  
  
Dark thoughts crept into the noblewoman's mind.  Waiting to attack during the Arquillian's warning shot demonstrated misdirection, stealth, premeditation.  Someone meant to fire upon them last night, purposefully.  While Ryoko likely had plenty of old rivals from her piratical days, most of them were across the galaxy, except perhaps Nagi.  However, the infamous bounty hunter would challenge Ryoko overtly, not snipe from the shadows.  Likewise, Washu's criminal record was seven centuries old, mostly forgotten to anyone in modern times.  
  
On the other hand, Ayeka's return to Jurai in early 1995 did cause a lot of stir, and many people left their jobs when the coup d'etat was revealed.  Despite Ayeka's generous edict of forgiveness, rumors even persisted that some may have fallen on their swords in private from shame and dishonor.  Familial revenge has proven to be a powerful motivator amongst royalty in many cultures, including Jurai's as proven by Kagato's very rise.  
  
Deep in the Juraian's heart, a dark chamber opened, revealing a fear she had hoped never to feel again.  
  
“What should we do, Ms. Washu?” Ayeka asked.  
  
“Ultimately,” Washu answered, “we will have to deal with whatever this Terran group is.  During my scan, I found someone I think could give us some information on them.  I say we speak with him and learn more about who we're facing.”  
  
“Agreed,” the princess dubiously acknowledged, “but isn't it possible that these Terrans may well be searching for us already?”  
  
“Oh, I have a plan for that,” the scientist retorted with a devilish grin.  
  
Sweat beaded on Ayeka's temple and rolled down the side of her face, debating whether an assassin would be worse than whatever scheme Washu had no doubt concocted during her recuperation.

 

* * *

  
Dr. Laurel Weaver had had a busy morning.  Since she had accepted Agent O's invitation to join the Men in Black, the good doctor had been pushed through a battery of tests, ranging from problem solving to marksmanship.  Considering her doctorate, the written exams had constituted little challenge.  As she had worked nights routinely in Manhattan, she knew her way around a pistol, though her score could have been better.  Afterward, she had been given a uniform black suit, had had her fingerprints burned off, had had her few pieces of jewelry confiscated, and had been designated “Agent L”.  
  
_And, some would think mind-wiping people was bad enough_ , she remarked to herself, still rubbing her fingers.  
  
Assigned as her training partner was Agent R, a rugged man in his late-40s.  Like most of the MiB personnel, he wore the standard issue suit, as well as sporting a crew cut, though his receding hairline did not flatter the style.  While Kay had been clean-shaven, and Jay and Zed sported a well-maintained mustache or goatee, Ar had a prickly layer of stubble along his cheeks and jawline.  Unlike Kay's chiseled granite features or Jay's baby-face, the sagging features of Elle's mentor demonstrated his age more overtly.  
  
Admittedly, she might not have caught him at his best.  Judging by the bags under his hazel eyes and the gravel to his voice, he had been working through the night after all the excitement at Flushing Meadows.  Her evaluation was only reinforced by the numerous cups of coffee he downed while giving her the tour of the facilities under Battery Park.  
  
Interestingly, the vast complex seemed empty.  Offices and desks were vacant except for a few staffers.  Arranged much like an airport, the main hall surrounding the so-called “Egg Display” stood manned by a scant handful of ticket checkers.  Considering the threat of planetary annihilation, Elle could understand why so few visitors were present.  However, she did wonder where all the agents needed to supervise this type of service had gone.  
  
She was taken aback when she first met “the Twins”, Blblup and Bob.  The two squid-like siblings monitored the Egg Display, a giant projection screen displaying any number of images transmitted from across the globe.  While Ar stated the display usually showed surveillance of visiting nationals, the screens were notably tracking incoming spacecraft rather than in-house camera feeds.  
  
While the Twins' appearance initially surprised Elle, she immediately became curious about them:  how they managed so many appendages, how they kept so much information sorted for the agents.  Likewise, the gadget room caught her eye with all the different technologies donated, or confiscated, from extraterrestrials.  The crystalline mini-discs and momentum enhancing orb were intriguing ideas, but the universal translator grabbed her attention.  She truly wondered why it was not implemented among the MiB personnel.  
  
Sadly, on all points, Ar was quite uninformative.  While Kay had been dense and terse, he had handled her as a “neutral”, uninitiated to this world.  On the other hand, Elle's partner merely shrugged, just going through practiced motions very mechanically, disinterested.  She recognized that he had done this act many times before by his well-rehearsed path, actions, and monologue.  Unfortunately, she had already given him a pass on his attitude for being tired, but now she was growing irritated with him.  She wanted the secrets to the universe, not a dullard showing her a complex and trying her patience.  
  
Finally, she stopped and confronted him.  “Alright.  Where is everyone else?”  
  
“Busy,” he curtly replied.  “We still have to visit the lock down in the lower levels.”  
  
“This place is the size of La Guardia, but hardly has the personnel to handle the passengers from just one airliner.”  
  
“It's nothing for you to worry about.”  
  
“Okay, look,” she frankly retorted.  “I might have only just been recruited, but I don't need to be _babied_.  I'm _very_ well aware of the Arquillian battle cruiser that threatened to blow up the planet last night.”  
  
His brows furrowed as he began to scold her.  “That's not your case, _rookie_.”  
  
Her hand rested on her hip as she barked back, “Funny.  It didn't feel that way when the bug had a _gun to my head_ , or when I _blasted it to hell_.”  
  
His eyes widened at her remarks.  “You _remember_ that?!  You should have been neuralized by the agent in charge of the case!”  
  
Before Elle could fire another verbal volley at her trainer, an announcement sounded over the internal address system of the complex:  “Agents R and L, report to Oh's office for assignment.”  While Ar scowled at his subordinate, she folded her arms and grinned to herself.  
  
“Maybe you can take it up with Oh when we see her,” she added.  
  
With a snort, Ar spun away from her and stormed up the stairs to the offices on the floor above.  Elle just followed quietly behind him, smugly claiming a victory over him, and anticipating another soon.  
  
Oh's office laid across from Zed's along the catwalk close to the gadget room.  While the chief's workspace had a full view of the entire main hall, the assistant chief kept within reach of all the research projects and file archives.  As second-in-command, her role to balance and check the chief required her to provide him informed advice and critique.  
  
As Ar and Elle entered, the Englishwoman was seated at her desk shuffling through several files and data tablets scattered on the tabletop.  She glanced toward them and greeted them, motioning to the chairs across from her.  
  
“How are we getting on, Agent L?” the assistant chief inquired casually.  
  
“A little eager to get out of this building,” Elle admitted as she and Ar seated themselves.  
  
“I have little doubt of that,” Oh admitted.  “Usually, a person with your expertise would be assigned to the labs here, but Zed and I thought you might be interested in field work.”  
  
“Where are all the other agents anyway?” the good doctor asked, her eyes briefly glancing to Ar.  “It's pretty vacant here.”  
  
While her training partner scowled back, the assistant chief answered, “That is actually why I have called the two of you here.  Almost all of the on-duty agents have been assigned to the dignitaries returning from last night's crisis.”  
  
“I figured as much.”  
  
“However, another matter requires our attention.  During the chaos last night, a pirate battleship approached the Arquillian vessel and was shot down.  While we have the pilot and the craft in custody, two passengers escaped into the city.  I am assigning the two of you to join the search.”  
  
“Who are the targets?” Ar requested.  
  
“They're not 'targets', per se, Ar,” Oh corrected.  “The pilot herself is a renowned space pirate, which is why we have her in custody.  However, we have yet to identify her two accomplices.  As yet, they may merely be civilian acquaintances of our little menace.”  
  
“Do we have any descriptions of them?” Elle inquired.  
  
The supervisor slid a few still photographs to the pair.  Each image showed the cyan-maned Ryoko lying unconscious a short distance from her two companions, Ayeka and Washu.  The pictures portrayed the Juraian princess visibly disoriented, weary, leaning on the genius for support.  
  
Examining the images, Elle raised a brow that all three were clearly very humanoid, nearly indistinguishable from Terran humans.  While Ryoko and Washu might be identified by the feline eyes and elfin ears, Ayeka could easily fade into the populace, if not for her eye and hair color.  She also took note of the kimono worn by the noblewoman, not unlike the traditions of Japan and other Eastern cultures.  
  
“They aren't that different from normal humans, are they?” Elle commented.  
  
“No,” Oh replied, “they really aren't, at least not on the surface.”  
  
Memories crept into the former mortician's mind, of the bug assassin ripping its skin apart, revealing its true insectoid nature.  
  
“So, are they hideous underneath like the zombie farmer?”  
  
“No, no,” the assistant chief clarified, “nothing so grotesque.  Biologically, they are nearly identical to us.  See for yourself.”  
  
She passed Elle a copy of Ryoko's medical chart.  Reading the chart, the good doctor noticed the similarities immediately:  body temperature, blood pressure, among many others seemed normal to her trained eye.  However, she did see a few differences:  heart rhythm, electrolyte levels, a few minor details that would raise suspicion or concern.  After seeing the bug assassin and the Twins, Elle had not expected an alien so “normal”.  
  
“That is Ryoko Ryua, our current 'guest' downstairs,” Oh explained.  “She is very much like us in most respects, with one important difference.”  
  
“She's an exhibitionist?” Elle quipped, motioning to the pirate's low-cut and tight-fitting attire.  
  
“Her taste in clothes is the least of our worries,” the English lady replied gravely.  “She has the ability to manipulate some kind of energy, forming constructs like barriers or swords.”  
  
“How does she do that?” the medical doctor pondered.  “All of her scans list her organs in much the same configuration as ours, with nothing significantly different.”  
  
“Evidently, it's a racial trait for the humanoid species on her home-world, Ryua.  However, we haven't dealt with her species until now, so our data on her is rather limited.”  
  
“I take it we're using someone else's data then?”  
  
Oh nodded.  “Yes.  As you might imagine, MiB has diplomatic ties with several extraterrestrial organizations.  In particular, our data on Ryoko comes from the Galaxy Police, one of the largest police forces in the Milky Way.  Our liaison with the GP is en route now to transport our prisoner to their courts for trial.”  
  
“While this is all interesting,” Ar interjected impatiently, “what kind of resistance do the two fugitives pose?  Are they Ryoan too?”  
  
Elle glared at Ar.  _I was getting to that, asshole._  
  
With an exasperated sigh, the assistant chief answered, “Possibly.  Zed spoke with Ryoko before he left the office.  According to her, one of her accomplices was Dr. Washu Hakubi,” she explained pointing to the redheaded girl in the pictures, “the self-proclaimed 'greatest scientific genius in the universe'.  Dr. Hakubi was a professor at the Universal Science Academy before being excommunicated for weapon development, twice.  While she's not as notorious as Ryoko, she is Ryoan and potentially has the same abilities.”  
  
“She looks like a child,” Elle bluntly commented.  
  
“I realize that, but apparently, Dr. Hakubi is peculiarly childlike,” Oh noted.  “However, the main issue is the violet-haired woman here.”  Pointing to the final member of the visiting party, she elaborated, “According to Ryoko, this is Princess Ayeka Jurai, formerly heir apparent of the Jurai Empire.”  
  
“So, she's like the Arquillian Rosenberg?” the new agent inquired.  
  
“Very much so,” Oh confirmed.  “The planet Jurai had a coup d'etat a couple years back while the princess was courting to be married.  Her small band overturned the coup and restored order to her planet.  _She_ is the person of interest here.”  
  
“Wait,” Elle interposed.  “What was she doing with a space pirate like Ryoko?”  
  
“Good question,” the assistant chief concurred, “though our issue with them is why they were shot down over our planet.”  
  
“So, we're supposed to find and babysit this princess?” Ar surmised.  
  
“To put it simply, Ar,” Oh stated, irritation becoming plain in her voice, “yes.  If something happens to her, Jurai will hold _us_ responsible.  As such, I don't want you bringing a deatomizer or a carbonizer on this mission.  Am I clear?”  
  
“As crystal,” he passively accepted, raising his hands in a placating gesture, “but I did have an issue to address while we were all here.”  
  
“If you want a better assignment,” Oh began, anticipating his complaint, “you will have to demonstrate that you can successfully complete those given to you.”  
  
“No, that wasn't my immediate problem,” Ar retorted, before he pointed at Elle.  “Why does she retain her memories of an alien encounter before her induction to MiB?  That's a breach of basic field protocol.”  
  
Elle glared back at her training partner while the Englishwoman across from them cracked her knuckles with a calming breath.  Visibly, a vein throbbed on her forehead as she maintained her professional demeanor, despite the petulant subordinate before her.  
  
“Agent R,” she carefully enunciated, choosing her words quite carefully, “your partner was offered a position because of her performance in the crisis last night.  The chief and I decided it would be best for her to remain as she is, so that her experience would benefit her career and others'.  While the situation is unusual, it is not unheard of.  One of the original Men in Black was inducted in much the same way.”  
  
“Then, why am I assigned to train her?” he argued.  
  
Coldly, Oh's eyes met Ar's as she said, “Agent L, would you mind stepping outside for a moment?  I would like to share a few words with your partner before the two of you depart.”  
  
“Certainly,” the new agent answered as she stood and made her through the door.  
  
The door sealed behind her, and she did not hear what was said on the other side.  Considering what she had already heard, she did wonder what Ar had done to be saddled with this job.  Admittedly, the organization seemed shorthanded at the moment after the Arquillian crisis, so perhaps he was the only one available.  On the other hand, he seemed very familiar with the testing process and the new agent tour.  Maybe he had trained several agents who ultimately failed to perform.  Given his curt and terse answers, she could see the latter possibility quite clearly  
  
_Regardless_ , she reasoned, _it was best that I kept my mouth shut about him anyway.  He said more than enough to hang himself anyway._  
  
Soon, the door opened, and Ar exited, his face pale and his eyes wide with fear.  Behind him, Oh stepped out, her motions very fluid and calm, unlike the anger dancing in her eyes.  
  
“Now, do find our two missing individuals,” she reiterated, expertly keeping her emotions locked away.  
  
“Yes, ma'am,” Elle answered while Ar just silently nodded.

 

* * *

  
In downtown New York sat a small kiosk painted bright yellow with large, black lettering which read the following: “LOCKSMITH”, “KEYS”, “AUTO-HOUSE”.  Surrounded by keychains, padlocks, and blank keys, a pale and haggard man stood, leaning on the kiosk's narrow counter.  His white hair fell haphazardly on either side from his balding scalp while his glazed eyes stared out toward the busy street.  Many passersby would compare the figure to a corpse as opposed to what actually lay beneath the surface.  
  
In truth, the man was a fixed position android, preprogrammed with a few responses for lingering customers.  Instead, the real proprietor was the small creature perched atop the counter just to right of the fake human.  Well-known to the Men in Black, he has earned the nickname “Frank the Pug” due to his physical resemblance to the pug breed of dog from Earth.  Members of his Remoolian race were naturally quadrupedal, distinguished from Terran dogs by four antennae and a triple-branched tail, to say nothing of the green skin.  To conceal his identity, Frank wore a faux-skin suit, custom-made by the MiB to give him the appearance of the fawn pug.  
  
As with most extraterrestrial inhabitants of Manhattan, Frank also had a story.  Before coming to Earth, the Remoolian had risen into the lower ranks of the Afmai crime family near the Alpha Centauri system.  However, shortly after becoming a street boss, he had been captured by the Galaxy Police in a raid on his headquarters.  With the threat of a century of jail time, the pug made a deal, informing on his superiors in exchange for a lesser sentence.  His testimony lead to multiple arrests, seriously hurting the family's hold on the system.  
  
Thus, Frank landed in Zartokla Prison for five years, sharing a cell with a certified psychotic.  His cellmate, Drekk, came from a magma-dwelling people who can generate heat and project fire from specialized organs on their wrists.  Drekk resented everyone who ever crossed him, obsessing about how he would “boil them alive, real slow”.  Frequently, he would threaten other inmates, including Frank, regardless of the guards in attendance.  Thankfully, this behavior forced the fiery felon into solitary confinement, giving Frank a break from the incessant ramblings about revenge.  
  
Then, there was how Drekk always picked his feet, absolutely disgusting.  
  
Once his sentence was completed in 1963, Frank was under threat from the Afmai family due to his testimony and, therefore, relocated to the newly established apolitical zone on Earth.  There, he took on the guise of a dog and first found a job at Coney Island as the “Amazing Talking Pug” alongside Roman the Fabulist and several other early residents.  However, after Boris the Animal's murder spree in 1969, the Remoolian demanded to be moved closer to the protection of the MiB headquarters.  As a result, he was established in his present locksmith front.  
  
Due to his location, Frank the Pug overheard his share of gossip and rumors, and he had informed the Men in Black on several occasions over the past 30 years, for a fee.  On the other hand, as an opportunist, he had been known to squeal for the criminal element also, earning him the ire of several agents, including Kay.  Brokering information in this way had earned the small creature years of experience in the politics of the cosmos, and his own share of notoriety.  As such, his last suit upgrade was to an XL-2000, which featured, among other amenities, a coating that resisted temperatures in excess of 1500ºC.  
  
Naturally, when the bug assassin killed Rosenberg, Frank caught wind of the incident and immediately made plans to leave the planet.  Before he could leave, Kay and Jay arrived to squeeze some information out of him:  the bug's goal, Rosenberg's purpose, and the meaning of “the Galaxy”.  After being manhandled by Kay, the pug rushed to his flight and got off-world as quickly as he could.  Once the danger passed, Frank promptly returned to his usual perch in downtown New York, well ahead of all the dignitaries.  
  
After spending the morning napping, the pug was planning to resume his weekly poker game with three other local informants.  However, as the sun returned to touch the New York skyline, two people approached Frank's kiosk, casting a pair of shadows over him.  
  
To his left stood a young woman in a halter top and hot pants, which clung tightly to her smooth skin.  Her long black hair was tied in a long ponytail behind her head, her bangs teased and spiked around her  brow.  Blushing, she stood apprehensively, glancing from side to side, holding her arms close, notably embarrassed about her appearance.  
  
Upon her brow rested a tiara composed of intricately woven branches of a smooth-barked tree.  Set into the apex of the decorative item was a violet crest, elegantly blooming from the ornament.  As beautiful as the item and young woman were, neither seemed to fit with the immodest style of dress she wore.  
  
On the other hand, a preteen girl stood to Frank's right.  Dressed more simply in a t-shirt and shorts, her red hair flowed down her shoulders and back.  On her nose were a pair of rectangular glasses that highlighted her piercing green eyes, which shone with far more intelligence than her small frame would admit.  
  
Considering their attire and human appearance, Frank momentarily thought the two were simply an odd pair of tourists visiting the Big Apple.  However, the redhead directly addressed him, not his mechanical associate, in English.  
  
“Frank, is it?”  
  
He raised a brow at her and angled his head to the side, playing his dumb dog act as he would with any normal human.  With any luck, she might leave him be.  Sadly for him, the short girl could see  past his disguise.  
  
“Remoolian physiology might be similar to Terran canines,” she said before poking at his chest, “but your heart is beating far too slowly, to say nothing of the foreign spectral pattern.”  
  
He placed his paw on her hand and pushed it away.  “Hey!” he retorted quietly.  “Are you trying to break my cover here?  I'm trying to run a business.”  
  
“Which one,” she quipped, “opening locks or giving information?”  
  
“Who's asking?” he demanded.  
  
Her eyes met his as she replied, “Dr. Washu Hakubi.  I'm sure you know who I am.”  
  
His eyes narrowed.  “Yeah, I've heard of you, and I know MiB is looking for you and your friend here.  Three cars have already stopped here so far.”  
  
“The men in the black suits, I take it?”  
  
“You got it, sister.  _They_ are the police force for the alien element here on Earth.  Considering your record, I'm surprised they didn't come for you sooner.”  
  
“So, I assume you know these 'Men in Black' quite well then?”  
  
“What's it to you?” he asked.  
  
“My associate and I are in the market for someone to mediate our situation with said Men in Black,” Washu explained.  
  
“And, why would I help some whack-job Ryoan?”  he argued.  “I doubt the Science Academy wants you back a third time.”  
  
“What about helping a Juraian princess?” the genius inquired, motioning to her companion.  
  
Frank blinked and narrowed his eyes at the taller woman before him, focusing on her face.  The more he looked, the more she blushed and turned away from his gaze.  Her shy demeanor and features caught on his memory, as well as the tiara sitting atop her forehead.  That item in particular appeared to be Juraian-made, though he did not remember it so openly worn.  Instead, he remembered it shrouded by violet hair, a more traditional hairstyle around the young lady's face.  
  
Then, he staggered back, recognizing Jurai Ayeka, the former crown princess of the Jurai Empire.  
  
“What the hell is _she_ doing here?!”  Frank demanded from Washu.  
  
“You remember that Arquillian battle cruiser from last night,” she reminded him, “the one threatening to destroy the planet?”  
  
“Yeah?”  
  
“The two of us and another associate of ours went to investigate, but were shot down.”  
  
“By the Arquillians?”  
  
“I don't think so,” the scientist explained, “which is our reason for coming to you.  You know the town and the MiB.”  
  
While the mystery did intrigue Frank, the pug would hardly move sheerly for the good of helping others.  Moreover, Washu had been known to manipulate others for her own advantage as well.  All this could easily be a scam to dodge the MiB with an Ayeka lookalike.  Back during the coup d'etat on Jurai, a few such women appeared and gained momentary popularity, like the one who competed in a swimsuit competition on Heliotropis.  
  
“How do I know you're not playing me, Hakubi?” the Remoolian asked.  
  
“Spectral trace,” Washu answered.  “I'm sure someone in your profession has a spectral analyzer close at hand.”  
  
“Yeah, but I'm not going to whip it out here in public.  This isn't Ryua, for the gods' sake.  Follow me around back.  We can talk more freely there.”  
  
With that, Frank jumped to the sidewalk and lead Ayeka and Washu into a secluded alley, away from prying eyes.  There, the small extraterrestrial sat upright and pulled open his fake skin, revealing his true green flesh, while he produced a small silver device.  The pen-like item had a chrome finish with several nuanced display meters, registering different aspects of the subject's being, ranging from genetic composition to over-dimensional aura.  Thanks to some of his contacts, the device also had a copy of the GP database used by the MiB to identify known offenders.  
  
While Washu stood with her arms folded, waiting with a tempered patience, Ayeka eyed the dark alley apprehensively.  Such covert dealings were far from her usual affairs, to say nothing of how the minute Ryoan had dressed her.  The wig had caused her scalp to itch, and these immodest clothes were embarrassingly tight.  Then, this dog-like creature lead them into this alley, speaking in an unfamiliar tongue, this “English”.  Its hammered together tones and staccato rhythm irritated her ears, and her tolerance for the entire situation grew quite thin.  
  
Finally, once out of the earshot of bystanders, she addressed the other two members of her party in Cerulian.  
  
“So, what is our purpose here?”  
  
Frank turned to her and replied in kind, “Good to see you aren't completely mute, lady.  I want to be sure you are actually who you claim to be.”  
  
He waved the device at Washu, whereupon it whirred and clicked as it scanned the environment around the great scientist.  Its display showed a profile and outline of her, listing pertinent data such as sex, species, and age.  For Washu, it clearly stated that she was a female Ryoan, though it listed her age as “12 years”.  
  
The pug scratched his head.  “Something's screwy with this thing.  It says you're only twelve.”  
  
Washu grinned slyly and answered, “It must be my youthful face and enthusiasm.”  
  
“Whatever,” the Remoolian retorted.  
  
After a moment more, the scanner cross-referenced the scan data with its database, returning her identity as none other than “Hakubi, Washu”.  He then turned to Ayeka and repeated the same process.  For the princess, the device showed she was a female Juraian, roughly 22 years old.  However, as he continued to scan, the device failed to identify her.  Frank slid closer to her and scanned again, scowling at the machine.  
  
Ayeka, on the other hand, glared impatiently down at him.  “Are you satisfied yet?”  
  
“Cool your heels, lady,” he responded.  “I can't get it to register right.”  
  
“It might not,” Washu noted.  “If it's pulling from a GP database, she doesn't really have a record with them, let alone in this sector.”  
  
“Well then,” he argued, “how am I supposed to believe she isn't just some Juraian chick you duped into scamming me?”  
  
A vein bulged over Ayeka's temple.  “Come again?” she said, pretending to mishear him.  
  
“No offense, lady,” Frank weakly apologized, “but I've seen enough impersonation scams in this town to be cautious.”  
  
The princess's lip curled at the insinuation.  _How dare he!_ she thought to herself.  
  
“My name is Jurai Ayeka,” she declared as she folded her arms over her chest and glowered down at him.  “I am princess of the Jurai royal family, and I demand an apology.”  
  
“Come on, toots,” he placated.  “Let it go.  I'm not putting my hide on the line for Hakubi, let alone some random Juraian babe.”  
  
At that, chimes rang out throughout the alley.  With each tone, a small wooden cylinder appeared in the air around Frank, each seemingly composed of the same aspen-like material as Ayeka's tiara.  These miniature guardian logs  continued to multiply until ten hovered around him, circling him.  A white lightning sparked along the surface of each small construct, her power of Jurai manifesting concretely.  As an extension of her will, these device obeyed her mental commands, capable of generating a barrier to defend or a static field to attack.  
  
Nervously, Frank's eyes darted between the floating objects, his hairs standing on end due to the ambient energy nearby.  He met Ayeka's gaze again and could see the insult burning within her face.  In his paw, the spectral analyzer started to beep loudly, warning him that the potential field growing around him could discharge at any moment.  
  
“Shall I repeat myself?” the insulted woman asked.  
  
Frank glanced to Washu.  “What the hell is this?!”  
  
Washu just shook her head and grinned.  “You wanted proof that she was a Juraian princess?  This demonstration of Jurai's power should be more than enough.”  She spun on her heels and headed back toward the street, commenting, “You might want to apologize, unless you actually want to get fried.”  
  
As the genius reached the street, she could hear Frank pleading with Ayeka, who stood silently and ominously over him.

 

* * *

  
The day dragged by Ryua Ryoko as she lounged in her shielded cell with nothing to do but wait.  However, experience had taught her ways to pass the time, as well as to find liberation.  Idly, she would create a ball of her scarlet power and fling it at the four walls, watching it ricochet.  Using a slow lob, she could predict its behavior and avoid the pulse while she noticed how much punishment the shield could sustain.  Considering that a prolonged struggle with her sword did not manage to penetrate the barrier, she was not surprised that her blasts ricocheted so many times.  
  
As no one barged through the door to restrain her or flooded the cell with gas, the Ryoan woman grew a little bolder and lobbed a small blast at the ceiling.  Not surprisingly, it bounced off and flew toward a wall, where it reflected down to the floor.  Upon impact with the metallic floor, the energy did not ricochet or immediately dissipate, but rather burned into the gray surface.  
  
Her amber eyes cut to the door, waiting for a guard to run inside the room.  After a minute or two, she turned her gaze to the mirrored glass, her lips stretching into a devious smile.  
  
_They aren't watching me_ , she noted.  _They're probably too busy chasing Ayeka and Washu.  The princess always did make a good distraction._  
  
She walked to the one-way glass and lightly tapped on the surface, listening to the quiet reverberation.  Again, no guards stormed inside to tie her down.  Just out of the sight of the mirror, she summoned an orb of light and formed her ruby sword, lowering it to the floor.  Slowly, she drew the weapon's tip along the floor behind her, watching it cut into the floor with very little effort.  Once more, she eyed the door and glass, observing no reaction.  
  
_They must not care about what's below this cell_ , she reasoned.  _It's probably impractical to tunnel out of here then.  Besides, I don't have days to burrow a hole either.  I just need out of this room._  
  
Zed had said that he would eventually give her to the Galaxy Police.  The lady pirate needed a quicker exit, and she had just the way.  She levitated into the air and drifted away from the glass, gathering filaments of her crimson light in her hands.  Pressing her wrists together, she pushed the power in her grasp before her, her muscles straining as the energy at her command grew more wild.  Once the fiery light between her palms nearly licked at her fingers, she released the blast to fly at the floor at the foot of the one-way mirror.  
  
The impact rocked the entire floor of the complex, flickering the lights and spewing dust from the joints in the building.  Startled, the agents manning the security checkpoints steadied themselves and checked their monitors, finding Ryoko's cell filled with clouds of particles.  Then, a second quake rippled through the building, spurring one guard to slam his fist into the alarm signal.  Red lights and sirens blared throughout the headquarters as agents rushed to arm themselves, grabbing deatomizers and carbonizers from the armory.  A third and a fourth strike shook the agents while they hurriedly opened the barricades leading to the cell below.  
  
Meanwhile, Ryoko breathed heavily, four attacks of such magnitude testing her endurance.  A thin barrier around her kept the particulate matter from entering her lungs as she knelt to inspect her handiwork.  The heated bursts of power had cut a thin corridor under the defended wall, allowing her to see into the other half of the interrogation room.  Now able to visualize her target, as well as having an undefended avenue, the Ryoan woman used another of her many innate talents, teleporting herself to Zed's side of the mirror.  Once inside, she could hear the sirens screaming throughout the complex.  
  
_Kicked a hornet's nest, didn't I?_ the lady pirate thought to herself.  
  
Outside, she heard the storming feet of the agents drawing nearer.  With only an oval table and a couple oddly shaped chairs, the room had little in the way of camouflage for a young fugitive.  However, with a glance upward, she chose another trick from her arsenal.  
  
Both the door in the cell and the door in the interrogation room were breached with a hiss of the pressure seals breaking.  Four agents rushed through each portal and searched the respective rooms for the space pirate.  The dust settling quickly, the cell team found the tunnel, but no other sign of Ryoko herself.  Likewise, the interrogation room discovered no immediate signs of the rogue, save the small exit of the tunnel.  
  
Then, above them, a whoosh of air caught their ears.  All four men turned their deatomizers to the ceiling only to sight an afterimage of the culprit.  Before they could react, the doors to both rooms closed and sealed, Ryoko's smug face looking back through the minute window at them.  Forming a small dagger from her ruby light, she melted and fused the controls to the doors, locking the agents inside.  
  
The Ryoan woman tapped on the glass as she mocked them, the Cerulian words singing from her lips, “I'll see myself out, boys.”  
  
While they pounded on the door, the space pirate cursorily investigated the corridor surrounding her.  Pressing her hand against the wall, she attempted to phase through it, using her ability to become incorporeal.  Unfortunately, as with the walls of the cell, the structure resisted her, likely due to immense density or its construction.  Moreover, she still could not sense her partner Ryo-Ohki.  
  
_So much for a quick way out_ , she surmised.  
  
Ryoko noted the corridor was inclined, rising in the direction from which the agents had come.  Reasoning that to be the most probable exit, she levitated into the air and darted forward through the hallway.  Soon, she reached a sealed bulkhead, quite sturdy and heavy, impossible for her to move with her physical strength.  Nearby, a guard station sat unmanned, likely because they were now locked in Ryoko's cell.  However, all the computers and monitors had instructions in English, which was sadly not a language the space pirate knew.  
  
On the other hand, one of the displays showed the other side of the bulkhead, where some ten agents were gathered, weapons drawn.  A couple of them were gathered at a terminal, typing away at the keyboard.  Then, the sirens suddenly went silent, and the bulkhead's locking pins loudly retracted before the portal began to lurch open.  
  
_They're breaching_ , Ryoko realized as she ducked under the guard's counter, just out of sight.  
  
The agents flooded into this antechamber, searching for the fugitive.  Listening, the rogue could hear as they rushed past the guard station, barking orders amongst themselves.  Thankfully, the desk and counter of the station reached to the floor, hiding her from their immediate sight.  Nevertheless, if they searched behind the counter, they would easily see her.  
  
In that moment, a familiar voice whispered to the Ryoan's mind.  
  
_There you are!_  
  
Ryoko immediately recognized Ryo-Ohki's presence and responded in kind.  
  
_Where are you?  Are you safe?_  
  
_Yes, though I still feel weak._  
  
The lady pirate could feel the lack of energy in her partner's psychic link, sensing the aching structure of her crystalline body and the weariness of her recovery.  On the other hand, the immediate danger of the agents searching for the young woman took priority.  
  
_Can you image where you are?_ Ryoko asked.  
  
_No problem_ , Ryo-Ohki responded, _but I don't think I can bring you here._  
  
_Don't worry about that._  
  
Through their mental connection, the gemstone craft sent a visual of her environment to her mistress's thoughts.  The angular vessel rested in a hangar filled with numerous other spaceships, ranging from a trite flying saucer to a machine with two forward-swept wings in a nearly vertical position.  Moorings held all of the vehicles in place, and some, like Ryo-Ohki, were actually restrained to prevent any movement whatsoever.  
  
Seeing the vision, Ryoko willed herself to vanish from the guard's desk and reappear in the hangar near her ship.  In another instant, she warped herself onto Ryo-Ohki's bridge, where the glass-like surfaces displayed the surrounding hangar as clear as a window.  Below, she could see several agents scurrying around the deck, checking the moorings on the Ryoan vessel and grabbing weapons from nearby racks.  
  
_We can't stay here long_ , she mused.  Considering her options, she asked her companion, _Can you fly?_  
  
_I don't think so_ , the ship answered wearily.  
  
A window opened before her, listing the status of all of the craft's systems.  From the attack the previous night, the balancer and main anti-gravity components were still regenerating.  The energy necessary to heal each has sapped most of Ryo-Ohki's strength, leaving her incapable of flying safely, let alone blasting the hangar doors open.  
  
Ryoko's eyes hardened, infuriated that someone would dare harm her furry partner, especially without provocation.  She had no intention of letting this trespass be ignored.  
  
However, the practical matter of their escape remained her highest priority.  They needed to become inconspicuous, to blend into the crowds outside quickly.  Sadly, her cyan mane and cabbit companion, to say nothing of her fashion sense, would identify her immediately.  They could not just run outside and disappear like on Heliotropis or Ryua, or even Jurai.  
  
_We need a vehicle_ , Ryoko reasoned.  
  
Being surrounded by the Men in Black's repository of impounded conveyances, the duo had their choice, but most were moored just like Ryo-Ohki.  While Ryoko could cut through such moorings with her energy sword, the agents would likely notice and fire upon her in short order.  Moreover, some of these vessels were foreign even to her, meaning she might not be able to pilot them.  
  
Then, she found her ride.  
  
_Alright, Ryo-Ohki_ , her thoughts spoke to her partner.  _Are you okay to transform?_  
  
_Yeah_ , the ship answered her, _but I don't think I'll be able to fight with you._  
  
_You shouldn't have to_ , she reassured her compatriot.  _Just follow my lead._  
  
_Okay.  Are you sure about this?_  
  
_Mostly_ , the fugitive admitted.  
  
Again, Ryoko vanished, a whoosh of air filling the void left by her body.  She reappeared across the hangar in the driver's seat of a Crown Victoria, one of many parked along the chamber's wall.  Sinking low into the seat, she kept out of sight from the agents around her.  Scanning quickly over the vehicle's controls, she found them reminiscent of some roadsters she boosted on Todain long before she came to Earth.  
  
And, admittedly, the larcenous woman had considered stealing a Terran car once or twice.  
  
Meanwhile, _Ryo-Ohki_ 's hull shrank as she began her metamorphosis back into her cabbit form.  The shift in mass freed her from the moorings, letting them swing free and clank noisily against the wall and nearby craft.  
  
As the furry creature descended to the floor, several agents turned and took notice of the large crystalline spaceship replaced by a cute little animal.  While dumbfounded at first, they soon raised their weapons at her and shouted in English for her to halt.  Quickly, the feline-like hare darted to the concrete below and scurried under the nearest vehicle in the motor pool, an armored van.  
  
As the agents flocked around the conveyance, reaching and yelling for Ryo-Ohki, Ryoko slowly peeked at the side mirror of her car.  After shining flashlights under the van, the agents started arguing amongst themselves, seemingly lost.  
  
Ryoko grinned.  _Are you inside?_ she asked Ryo-Ohki telepathically.  
  
_Yes_ , the furry creature replied, _though I doubt they'll take long to realize where I am._  
  
_Then, let's give them something else to worry about_ , the fugitive answered.  
  
With a thought, Ryoko teleported outside of the car and hovered over its top, as she called out to the agents.  
  
“Hey, cops!” her Cerulian words hit their ears, spinning them toward her.  “I think you're looking for me!”  
  
Promptly, the law enforcers forgot about the cabbit and focused on the Ryoan woman, her hands glowing a deep crimson.  Their weapons trained on her, their English orders falling on her uncomprehending ears.  With a smirk, she vanished, only reappear amongst them.  Promptly, she punched the nearest agent in the gut before breaking the nose of the next.  
  
The farthest agent raised his sidearm at her, but her golden eyes caught the motion and immediately teleported away.  Her voice called to them from a door across the room.  
  
“I'm over here, dumbass!”  
  
Infuriated, most of the agents aimed and fired at her, but she slid into the open doorway, avoiding the shots and disappearing from sight again.  As the agents charged through the door after her, she faded back into existence next to the van, shaking her head in amusement.  
  
“So damned gullible.”  
  
Snatching a vehicle key from a valet stand near the door, Ryoko flew to the corresponding vehicle and phased inside.  No longer under siege, Ryo-Ohki passed through the wall of her hiding place and hopped her way into her mistress's automobile.  With a roar, the Crown Victoria awoke, the Ryoan woman squealing the tires as she peeled out of the parking space.  Within moments, she screeched to a halt at the ramp leading out of the complex, blocked by a lowered metal barrier.  
  
Calmly lowering the window and aiming her hand at the gate, the lady pirate summoned her red energy once more.  
  
“Let's check out of here, Ryo-Ohki.”  
  
With a relieved mew, the cabbit concurred.  Without hesitation, Ryoko blasted a hole in the impediment and zoomed her stolen Crown Victoria out onto the streets of Manhattan.  
  
Elsewhere, Elle and Ar were returning to headquarters due to the alert that Ryoko had broken free.  In transit, their transceiver squawked to life with Oh's voice.  
  
“Ar, we have a problem.”  
  
“What's happened?” he asked.  
  
“Ryoko has fled headquarters in a stolen LTD.  We are tracking the car on Church Street.  You are the closest unit to intercept her.”  
  
“Has she used super-speed system?”  
  
“No, the car hasn't transformed.  You should be able to cut her off at 14th Street and detain her until backup can arrive.”  
  
“I'm on it.”  
  
With a glare to her partner, Elle added, “ _We're_ on it.”  
  
Once the transceiver went silent, Ar glanced to his trainee and retorted, “ _You_ don't have a weapon, _rookie_.  Take notes and stay out of the way.”  
  
“You were _ordered_ not to carry a weapon to keep from hurting the princess if we found her,” the good doctor barked back.  
  
“The chief said no carbonizer or deatomizer.  She didn't say anything about my sidearm,”  Reaching into his seat, he produced a copy of Jay's chirping weapon, the Noisy Cricket.  “Or this.”  
  
“We're only supposed to _detain_ her until backup arrives.”  
  
“We won't need backup once I bring the pirate in myself.”  
  
“Are you serious?” the former mortician asked incredulously.  “After everything Oh told us about her, you think you'll catch her solo?”  
  
“She's just one human woman,” Ar hissed in return.  “She won't be that much trouble.”  
  
Insulted, Elle rebuked him, “Are you really _that_ full of yourself?  You're going to chase after an enemy who just broke out from the fortified prison at headquarters, and is likely far more powerful than you, by _yourself_?”  
  
“Just enjoy the ride,” he growled as he suddenly turned the car, shoving his trainee into the door frame.  
  
_Asshole!_ Elle mentally cursed as she recovered from his arrogant maneuver.  
  
Meanwhile, Ayeka and Washu were hailing a taxi with Frank the Pug in tow.  However, before they entered the vehicle, a beeping arose from Frank, giving the two women pause.  
  
From his skin suit, the Remoolian produced a small device he placed to his folded ear.  Not unlike a police scanner, the illicit tool monitored the transmissions used by MiB.  Normally, these signals would appear to be unintelligible static between standard emergency bands and, thus, would be subsequently ignored.  However, Frank's scanner decrypted the signal, overhearing Oh's exchange with Ar.  
  
Curious, the princess inquired, “What's the matter?”  
  
“Sounds like your pirate pal broke out of MiB headquarters,” Frank relayed.  “They're going to try and snag her on 14th Street.”  
  
_Dammit, Ryoko_ , Ayeka cursed to herself.  _You've only made this situation worse._   Turning to Frank, she asked, “How long would it take us to reach this 14th Street from here?”  
  
“About 10-12 minutes, depending on traffic,” he answered.  “What?  Are you thinking of heading them off?”  
  
“Exactly,” the princess acknowledged.  “Ryoko may be a ruffian, but she isn't in the wrong here.  Tell the driver to make haste.”  
  
“You do know what New York traffic is like, right?”  
  
“Irrelevant,” she retorted, quite determined.  “We need to rendezvous with Ryoko before this incident escalates any further than it has.”  
  
The pug spun to Washu and asked, “Could you talk some sense into her?  I mean, this is MiB we're talking about, on their own turf.”  
  
Plainly, the genius rhetorically stated, “Have you ever known royalty to change their mind?  Besides, she's right.  Likely, her presence could have enough sway to fix this before someone gets too hurt.”  
  
“Fine,” Frank grumbled.  “This still sounds like a stupid idea.”  
  
The two women piled into the cab while the Remoolian instructed the driver, another alien resident, to make all haste to Union Square Park, the nearest open area to the intercept point.  After Frank slipped the cabbie a 100$-bill, the driver slammed down the accelerator and fishtailed into traffic, dodging cars as he went.  
  
On University Place, Ryoko's speeding Crown Victoria had attracted the attention of a couple of squad cars, both chasing her as she weaved through the early evening commuters.  Her lip curled at the red and blue lights in her mirrors, as she schemed of ways to elude these officers.  
  
Unfortunately, once she reached 14th Street, another vehicle plowed into the rear of hers, sending the car into a spin.  Her tires cleared the curb and landed her in Union Square Park, the car awkwardly placed on a hill between two trees.  Fortunately for Ryoko and Ryo-Ohki, the MiB unit deployed air bags and emergency harnesses, saving them both from any injuries more serious than a bruise or scratch.  
  
Outside the car, the other vehicle, a second black Crown Victoria, hissed steam from its busted radiator.  Its occupants had long since ejected themselves before the crash and were approaching the scene, one with weapons drawn.  
  
Ar proudly smiled to himself.  Though he sacrificed his conveyance, he had caught the infamous space pirate.  There she was, dazed inside her stolen car, ready to be cuffed and returned to headquarters.  Finally, both Zed and Oh would have to acknowledge his talents and skills.  No more would he live in the shadows of the original agents like Kay or Dee.  Bringing Ryoko back in chains would force everyone to respect him.  There would no longer be talk of “overzealous”, “glory hound”, or “loose cannon”.  
  
Behind him, Elle followed at distance, looking at all the chaos his stunt has caused.  _For a secret agent_ , she thought, _he sure doesn't give a damn about collateral damage._  
  
Ar flashed his fake identification to the gathering crowd, declaring, “Federal agent, Division Six!  Everyone stay back!”  
  
Most of the people kept their distance, though sirens could be heard approaching the park.  Soon enough, emergency services would be here, both from the city and from MiB.  The determined agent had little time to take his captive.  
  
Ar reached the stolen Crown Victoria when the door blew off its hinges with a burst of crimson light.  From the vehicle, Ryoko emerged, her palms burning bright with her ruby energy, her amber eyes glaring coldly at the agent.  Arriving a second later, Elle was taken aback by the sight of the infamous space pirate, strong and unbroken.  
  
“Persistent bastards, aren't you?” Ryoko remarked in Cerulian.  
  
While Elle had seen a few subtitled films from Japan, she could not understand the Ryoan woman's words.  On the other hand, Ar had had plenty of training in the most common languages used by Manhattan's extraterrestrial residents, including Cerulian.  
  
“Put your hands up and come quietly,” he ordered in the same language as he raised his weapon, adding, “or I will put you down.”  
  
Ryoko smirked and dared him, “Try it.”  
  
With little hesitation, Ar fired his sidearm, sending a bolt of blue light at the pirate, who stood firm.  The mass of energy impacted a spherical barrier around her, ricocheting the blast into a nearby tree.  
  
Ryoko raised her hand toward the agent, her ruby power coalescing into a single orb.  “And, we're done here.”  
  
Before she could attack, Ar fired his Noisy Cricket, shooting a large blast of green light at the pirate.  Though the determined operative was knocked onto his rear by the recoil, Ryoko's eyes widened at the incoming wave of energy.  Dissipating her own attack, she focused her might into a barrier around herself, meeting the grand shot head-on.  The force of the impact bowed her barrier and rent her from her feet, throwing her hard into the side of her damaged Crown Victoria.  
  
Winded by the unexpected shot, Ryoko took a moment to recover, aching from the impact with the car.  Ryo-Ohki mewed and hopped to the window of the vehicle, voicing her concern over their mental link.  On the other side of the conflict, Elle came to Ar's side to help him back to his feet.  However, he refused her help and rose from the ground on his own, though slowly.  Still, having seen the lady pirate deflect a shot from one weapon and take the brunt of another, the good doctor would not remain silent again.  
  
“Ar,” Elle began, “she's not simply an ordinary woman.  We should wait for backup, like the chief ordered.”  
  
“No!” Ar barked back.  “She is _my_ collar, and I'm _not_ going to share it with you, or the cleanup crew.”  
  
Pushing her aside, he leveled the Noisy Cricket at Ryoko again when another barrier manifested between the two parties.  Surprised, both Ryoko and Ar turned to see Ayeka standing only a few meters away with Washu and Frank close at hand.  
  
“That's enough!” the Juraian princess demanded.  “There is no need for any more violence!”  
  
Ryoko looked over Ayeka in her current state of dress, still wearing the halter top and hot pants, and chuckled to herself.  
  
“Ayeka?  Is that you?”  
  
“Yes, Ryoko,” the noblewoman answered.  “Have you forgotten me already?”  
  
“No, but I don't remember you dressing like a slut either,” the pirate needled back.  
  
“How dare you!” the princess fumed, and blushed.  “I came to save you, and this is the thanks I get?!”  
  
Although Elle did not understand their bickering, she did hear the name “Ayeka” amongst the Cerulian words.  Despite the very out-of-character attire and dyed hair, the good doctor recognized the princess's face from the pictures Oh had shown in their briefing.  
  
“Hold on,” the former mortician said in English as she stepped toward the barrier, addressing Ayeka specifically.  “You're Princess Ayeka?”  
  
Naturally, the princess recognized her name amongst Elle's foreign words, but she too did not understand the other woman.  Thankfully, Washu did.  
  
“She is,” the genius declared in the same tongue.  “There's been a rather big misunderstanding here, and we'd like a chance to clear the air.”  
  
“Our chief would like to do the same.  We were assigned to find the two of you and escort you to her.”  
  
Frank turned his eyes to Ar and shook his head, commenting, “Zed must be really low on manpower to put this loose cannon on a scratch-and-sniff like this.”  
  
At the sight of a talking dog, Elle folded her arms and thought to herself, _Only a matter of time, I suppose._  
  
“Shut it, you Remoolian mutt!” the botched agent growled back.  “We were sent to stop the space pirate Ryoko!”  
  
“Only after she broke out of headquarters,” Elle corrected, “and only because we were the nearest unit.”  
  
He glared at his temporary partner.  “Whose side are you on, lady?”  
  
“Apparently, not yours,” she quipped.  
  
“While I have no doubt Ryoko's been causing you a lot of trouble,” Washu admitted, “we think it might be best to discuss the situation a bit more civilly.”  She glanced to Ar's weapons.  “Without shooting at each other.”  
  
“I'd agree with that,” Elle responded before turning to her training partner.  “What about you, Agent R?”  
  
Without a word, she could see plainly in his eyes that all his aspirations were crumbling before his eyes.  All the glory he wanted was fading away, all the recognition lost to the winds.  His angry eyes slid from Elle to Ryoko, the prey he could have apprehended.  He gripped his weapons tightly, wishing he could take another shot at her, frustrated at being blocked by not only this rookie, but also the princess he was to babysit.  
  
Meanwhile, Washu explained to Ryoko and Ayeka that she had smoothed relations with the female agent, and that all should be well.  Though the princess was pleased, the pirate remained skeptical, considering how the male agent was reacting to the situation.  However, free from her bonds, she held solace in her ability to teleport or fly away in this open park if needed.  
  
Then, blood splattered across Ayeka's barrier and over Elle's face and clothes.  Startled, everyone turned to see Agent R look down at a hole cauterized through his chest.  Another blast of energy vaporized his head from his shoulders before his body could slump to the ground.  The princess screamed in terror while the pug resisted vomiting from the sight.  The scientific genius and mortician were both stunned into silence while the pirate's gaze grew distant, rising to meet those of the assailant.  
  
Behind the agent's remains stood a man, his eyes slightly glazed, his hand outstretched toward Ar's corpse.  Dressed in military fatigues, the new arrival moved unnaturally:  elbows and wrists bending where they should not, body bulging notably where it should not.  Despite the shock of the blood splatter, Elle recognized this type of motion, the same as her attacker from the night before.  
  
“Y-you?!” she stuttered.  “You're a…!”  
  
The murderer ignored her and instead focused on Ryoko, only on her.  
  
“There you are,” he uttered in Cerulian, “Ryua Ryoko.”  
  
The Ryoan's skin crawled as she summoned her bravado and rhetorically asked, “Why does everyone want me today?”  
  
“Old debts need to be paid,” he replied cryptically as he lurched forward.  
  
Before he could proceed far, another Juraian shield manifested around him.  He turned his glare to Ayeka, who, though still shaken by the murder, had regained her senses.  
  
“No farther, murderer!” she declared.  
  
“Ah,” he hissed as his eyes narrowed on her, “a Juraian noble.”  
  
Beneath his skin, a glow emerged, shifting to a deep purple as he extended his hand to her barrier.  Talons of black energy spawned from his fingertips, which he thrust into her construct.  Once his power touched hers, filaments burst forth, red and blue, as the two powers dueled with one another.  Ayeka strained to maintain her field, but the foe ripped apart the defensive shell within a few seconds, startling the princess.  
  
_How could he cut through my shield so easily?_ she asked herself.  
  
Immediately, a ruby bolt flew from Ryoko's hands into the strange man's face, clouding him in particles from the impact.  Forming her energy sword, the space pirate darted at him, drawing her weapon back to strike, when an identical weapon swung back at her.  The two red blades ground against one another as the cloud cleared, showing the damage to his face.  
  
Ryoko's attack at severed the man's jaw and ripped a gash of flesh off his face, revealing what was beneath.  Instead of sinew and muscle, insectoid mandibles clacked and hissed at her, Illirg's true body compressed inside the corpse of his host.  
  
“Ryoan bitch!” he growled as his monstrous strength thrust her back, giving him room to swing his own scarlet weapon.  
  
Teleporting out of range, Ryoko too was taken aback by his power, his sword nearly a twin of her own, to say nothing of the horrifying image of a bug wearing a man's skin.  
  
Illirg, this nightmarish creature of torn flesh and hard carapace, then levitated, his stolen skin illuminated by a crimson glow beneath its surface.  He flew at Ryoko, imitating her attack from moments ago.  The lady pirate cursed under her breath as she dodged his first swipe and clashed with his second, teleporting behind him to cut along his back.  The wound revealed more of his insectoid carapace, but did not actually harm the true beast inside, as he turned to strike at her.  
  
Then, Ayeka's mini-guardians chimed into existence around Illirg, encircling him and separating him from Ryoko.  He roared at her as the glow beneath his skin changed from red to purple again.  When the princess ignited her mini-guardians with bolts of her Jurai power, he created a barrier of his own, black in color, which expanded and shattered her constructs.  The psychic backlash staggered the regal lady while the pirate reengaged her enemy.  
  
Meanwhile, Washu had already summoned her phantom laptop and was scanning the newly revealed foe.  However, even the great genius was surprised by what data she was receiving from him.  Though her findings were preliminary, the creature was exhibiting characteristics of both Juraian and Ryoan races, encased in a giant insect's body, as well as…  
  
_No_ , she argued with herself, _that can't be right.  How the hell could he also have…?_  
  
This situation had escalated far beyond her expectations, battling an unknown creature in the middle of the city, a man murdered before their eyes.  Ryoko and Ayeka alone might not be enough to handle this creature, let alone the agents who were starting to arrive.  
  
Washu grabbed Frank the Pug and asked, “What's the nearest large hotel?”  
  
As the conflict continued, Elle gathered her wits, accepting the bolts of energy and inhuman monster.  She turned to the body of her fallen partner, where his weapons had fallen a short distance from his hands.  
  
Ryoko and Illirg's swords clashed time and again until the hideous creature slid away and throw his weapon at his opponent, forcing her to protect herself with a shield.  As she recovered, Illirg outstretched his hand toward her, the skin ripping open as his true claws emerged, burning with a black aura.  
  
“Now,” he hissed with a pleased tone, “as my queen has decreed.”  
  
Then, Elle called out to him, “Hey, bug!”  
  
He turned to her to see Ar's Noisy Cricket in her hands, aimed directly at him.  
  
“Remember me?” she asked rhetorically as she pulled the trigger, firing a large green blast at him.  
  
His mandibles flared as he roared, the shot plowing into him, sending him into the sky.  However, the recoil of the weapon threw Elle to the ground, knocking her head against the dirt.  Concussed, the good doctor lost sense of her surroundings and, within a few moments, her consciousness.


	5. Darkened Fate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Ryoko and Ayeka have been missing, Tenchi joins Kiyone and Mihoshi in investigating where the pirate and the princess may have gone. In Manhattan, Agent J returns to duty and is paired with the GP liaison to the MiB, Mitsuki. Meanwhile, Agent L is stuck with Ryoko and Ayeka, considering how to handle their new foe.

From the night sky of Manhattan Island, an object crashed into the NYC Human Resources Administration building.  The impact punched a hole into the roof of the structure, shaking all the floors and walls within.  The commotion spurred the night watchmen away from their idle discussions about the sirens approaching Union Square Park.  
  
While the watchmen scurried upstairs to find the cause of the disturbance, the object himself clawed his way out from the concrete and steel.  Illirg hissed and roared as he pushed the slabs of stone off of his body and righted himself.  Gazing at himself, his stout carapace did not sustain any significant damage from the Ryoan sword or the agent's pistol, but his skin suit was grotesquely ripped apart by the Noisy Cricket's blast.  His folded insectoid torso and limbs could clearly be seen beneath the torn and burned flesh of his reluctant donor.  
  
Now, the creature would require a new skin to conceal his identity in this city.  Besides, the use of his varied powers in the park had drained him, made him hungry.  Frustrated and famished, he growled deep as he began to walk toward the nearest door.  
  
Then, a deep pain sparked through his right arm.  His exposed claws rammed into the wall, clutching it while he seized in this sudden fit.  A black aura burned around his arm, just as it did when he nearly completed his first task.  In the back of his mind, whispered words emerged from his thoughts, chiding him in several voices.  
  
_I am not where I belong_ , the quiet choir spoke.  _I should be part of the Ryoan girl._  
  
Glaring at his arm, the gargantuan insect willed a change within himself.  The mantis-like green and black patterns of his carapace began to change, glowing a dark blue as the black lines twisted into floral and oceanic patterns.  Most indicative of all, the marking grew onto his face, clawing across his mandibles like the stripes of a tiger, like those of the Jurai royal family.  
  
The black aura dimmed while Illirg barked at his appendage, “Don't try that with me!  I'll burn you out!”  
  
_Do so_ , the choral words responded, _and your “queen” will slowly dissect what simplistic memories you possess._  
  
The bug's loyalty to his perceived queen warred with his desire to end this entity bonded to his arm, this “seed” she wished to plant within the soul of the Ryoan girl.  He had been on the verge of completing that task when the Terran agent interfered.  While he found the request strange for his royalty to demand of him, he refused to question it.  He was merely a servant, as his genes commanded him to be.  Thankfully, the blue light kept the “seed” from planting itself within him.  
  
“Then,” Illirg compromised, “let me finish the job.”  
  
The black aura faded as the other entity whispered, _Very well, but be quick.  I too hunger._  
  
Also relenting, Illirg's markings returned to their mantis-like green and black patterns.  His armored joints loosened as he took a heavy breath, relaxing from the fleeing pain.  Unfortunately, the growl of his gut did not relent, though he did not have to wait for a meal.  
  
The night watchmen burst through the door, finding the demolished ceiling.  Slabs of concrete and lengths of reinforcing bars littered the floor, and lights hung and flickered from their broken frames above.  While one watchman cautiously approached the damaged area of the room, another swung his flashlight to the side, soon illuminating a figure in the shadows.  Illirg just grinned as the screaming started.

 

* * *

  
Agent J had slept intermittently over the past 24 hours.  Physically, he had needed the rest to recuperate from the excitement of his first assignment with MiB.  However, his mind had haunted him with images of neuralizing Kay and leaving Laurel with Oh, who presumably also neuralized the good doctor.  Though he had realized that both situations had been out of his hands, part of him refused to condone either case.  While his body recovered, he grew restless, needing activity to squelch his distaste for the end of his training.  
  
Now a day removed from the incident, Jay returned the covert base in Battery Park, the new morning's sunlight falling on the side of his face.  Upon his entrance, he noted the same lone guard seated in a plain chair, quietly reading his newspaper, just like when Jay was first invited to join MiB.  In a way, the constancy of this image lifted the former NYPD officer's spirit.  
  
“Do you ever leave?” he quipped.  
  
“Just when my shift's over,” the other man replied.  “The boss wants to see you.”  
  
Jay's brow raised.  “He don't waste a second, does he?”  
  
As the young agent made his way to Zed's office, he wondered what the chief had in mind.  While the neophyte had nearly lost his temper with the Arquillian ambassador, Zed had stopped him, so that issue was likely not the reason.  Furthermore, the Galaxy had been returned, so that case should be closed at this point as well.  
  
The main hall of MiB headquarters bustled with life this morning, agents either typing reports at their desks or conversing with one another.  Few noticed him among the other black-suited operatives, though he was their new colleague.  Just like with the NYPD, he would have to find his place amongst the elite ranks of the organization.  
  
Then, he thought, _Maybe he's pissed I haven't turned in a report yet._   With a slight sneer, he added, _If so, it's his own damned fault for sending me home._  
  
Finally arriving, Jay pushed open the door to find not only Zed behind the desk, but also Oh.  While the young agent had met and spoken with Chief Z through the two-day ordeal with the bug, he had only briefly interacted with Agent O after neuralizing Kay.  He still did not yet have an understanding of her or her place in the chain of command.  
  
_And_ , the former cop reminded himself, _she took Laurel away._  
  
“There you are, Jay,” Zed announced, motioning to a nearby chair.  “How was your day off?”  
  
“Fine, I guess,” Agent J answered indifferently.  “You wanted to see me?”  
  
“Yes, we did,” the chief acknowledged.  “First, I'd like to clear up a common confusion among our new agents, as well as fix an oversight from the other night.  Many of our young agents are mavericks, hotdogging glory hounds who tend to break the rules more than follow them.”  
  
“Kinda hard to follow the rules when you don't answer to anyone,” the former cop stated plainly.  
  
“Exactly my point,” the older gentleman emphasized.  “Here at MiB, no agent works alone.  Everyone has a partner to keep them in check.  As someone from the police force, I'm sure you can understand that.”  
  
“I can see that,” Jay accepted as he thought back to the cases of corruption he had seen at the NYPD.  Then, he turned that very question back to Zed.  “And, what about you, boss?”  
  
“Allow me to formally introduce Assistant Chief O,” Zed responded, motioning to his companion.  “She and I oversee one another, just like you will when you are assigned a permanent partner.”  
  
Oh wedded her fingers and finally spoke, “Indeed, Zed.  It is also standard policy for an agent to be benched until they can be paired with a suitable peer.  As you might expect, we don't need personnel going unchecked in this business.”  
  
Frustration welled in Jay as he folded his arms.  “So, I'm benched?”  
  
“Actually,” Zed corrected, “quite the contrary.  We have a case that would suit your particular background.”  
  
The reversal struck the young man off-guard when the chief slid a file folder across the desk to the former cop.  
  
“Correct me if I'm wrong,” the older gentleman began, “you held the rank of detective third grade when we recruited you.”  
  
“Not that the lieutenant gave a damn,” Jay retorted, taking the folder in hand.  
  
“Then, here's a chance to show what you can do, slick,” the lead agent proposed.  
  
Though the new agent rolled his eyes at “slick”, he opened the folder and started thumbing through the documents.  Several pages were crime scene reports, some from headquarters and some from Union Square Park.  Photographs showed two wrecked LTDs, black just like Kay's, as well as skid marks that clearly indicated that one impacted the other.  
  
“We had a breakout from lower level lockdown last night,” Oh began.  “While you were chasing the bug two nights ago, another ship approached the Arquillians and was shot down.  It crashed in the bay, and we took the pilot into custody.”  
  
Jay flipped to a dossier of the rogue Ryua Ryoko, scoffing at the picture, “ _She's_ a 'space pirate'?  Looks more like a '80s rock star.”  
  
Oh's eyes glared into his, burning through him as she warned, “Do _not_ underestimate her.  Unarmed, she blasted a hole through a holding cell wall and broke the nose of one agent, before stealing an LTD and escaping.”  
  
“Wait a minute.  How can she blast a hole in a holding cell?”  
  
“She's a Ryoan, kid,” Zed answered.  “She has some very powerful racial traits.  Caught us with our pants down, really.”  
  
Continuing through the dossier, he noted the list of her abilities:  flight, teleportation, an incorporeal form, energy manipulation.  An incredulous look filled his eyes reading what would have been science fiction, or even fantasy, a mere few days ago.  
  
“We had been holding her for transfer off-world to the Galaxy Police,” Oh continued, “since she has been wanted by them for some time.”  
  
“So, the Galaxy Police are the 'real' space cops?” Jay needled.  
  
“You could say that,” Zed admitted, “though we do have jurisdictional agreements with them.”  
  
“Of course you do.”  
  
From behind Jay, a new voice retorted with a thick Japanese-like accent, “I take it this is your 'newbie', Zed?”  
  
Turning back toward the door, the junior agent saw a young woman enter the room, likely in her mid-20s by her strong and fit figure.  As she walked farther into the room, he noticed that she wore an unfamiliar blue and gray uniform:  a blue jacket with some striped insignia across the left side of her chest, gray slacks sucked into tall navy-colored boots, a stiff white collar emerging from the neckline of her jacket.  
  
However, while her right hand seemed fairly normal, sheathed in a white glove, her left hand was visibly mechanical, clacking as she tapped the metal fingers against the palm.  Once she fully stood in the light, he could see her deep red hair, cropped short and professionally in back, but combed fashionably to the side of her face.  Then too, he caught another asymmetry in her face:  jagged scars passing down her left cheek and into the neckline of her uniform.  
  
Her reddish-brown eyes focused hard on Jay, betraying a jaded side to this new face, as well as judging and assessing him.  
  
She spoke smoothly and condescendingly, “He doesn't look like much to me.”  
  
The newly minted agent held his tongue for the moment while Zed introduced this arrogant woman, “Agent J, this is Mitsuki Matsu, our liaison with the Galaxy Police.”  
  
“Guess you're here to catch the pirate then?” Jay assumed.  
  
As Mitsuki seated herself next to Jay, she replied, “I was just supposed to transfer her to GP headquarters, but it seems matters have escalated.”  
  
“To say the least,” Oh understated.  “There is the matter that Ryoko appeared not long after the bug killed Rosenberg,” Oh elaborated.  “We need to know if she was somehow involved, in case Arquillia has a claim to her as well.”  
  
“Think she might have been the bug's accomplice?” Jay inquired.  
  
“That hasn't been determined yet,” Zed stated, “but she also had two other people with her.  We had hoped to bring them in for questioning as well.”  
  
Proceeding through the folder, Jay reached a photograph taken from the beach a day ago:  Ryoko unconscious, Washu leading a dazed Ayeka away from the scene.  
  
“We had every available agent searching for them both,” Oh briefed him.  “According to Ryoko herself, they are Dr. Washu Hakubi, another Ryoan with her own criminal record, and Princess Ayeka Jurai, formerly heir apparent of the Jurai Empire.”  
  
Surprised, Jay asked, “What the hell is a princess doing with those two?”  
  
“They likely live together,” Mitsuki answered.  
  
“What's the connection?” the young agent questioned.  “A space pirate, a crazy scientist, and a princess to an empire, all in one house?”  
  
“Almost two years ago, there was a coup d'etat on Jurai,” the GP officer explained.  “With the cooperation of the Galaxy Police, Jurai's military hunted the galaxy for Princess Ayeka and anyone connected to her.  At the time, she and her younger sister were in residence here on Earth, along with Ryoko and Washu.”  
  
“And, MiB _let_ Jurai snatch someone off the planet like that?” Jay asked, turning back to Zed and Oh.  
  
“As I mentioned a moment ago,” an irritated chief began, “we have some jurisdictional agreements with the GP that have stood for 15 years.  They have jurisdiction over the Japanese islands while we have jurisdiction over the moon.  Since Princess Ayeka and her friends were in Japan, they were in the GP's jurisdiction, not ours.  We did monitor the Juraian battleship sent for her, as well as the movements of the GP's resident officers, but those were not our affair.”  
  
“The _Galaxy Police_ have jurisdiction on Earth?” the neophyte agent repeated incredulously.  “Why the hell would they?”  
  
“They are the largest policing body of the galaxy,” the older man continued.  “Inevitably, cooperation or conflict would arise, so we made agreements to give them their place at the table while preserving our own.  Their resident officers could come and go freely from Japan while we handled the rest of the planet and put a foothold on the moon.”  
  
“Also,” Mitsuki added, “the resident officer position had been long vacant until Ryoko was chased to Earth in 1994.”  
  
“Even after resident officers were assigned to the solar system,” Oh mentioned, “we mostly handled terrestrial matters while they worried about the other planets.  On a few rare occasions, we did work with them.”  
  
“That still doesn't explain why these three people are connected to each other, let alone to this case,” Jay returned.  
  
“Damn good point,” Zed responded.  “Too bad we don't have an answer yet.”  
  
Setting down the case file, the young agent asked, “So, how do I factor into this?  I'm not familiar with space doctors or star princesses.”  Motioning to Mitsuki, he quipped, “Why not just let her do her thing?  I'm sure she could blend in just fine.”  
  
The GP officer glared back at him while Oh answered, “While she will be involved in the investigation, this is _our_ jurisdiction, Jay.”  Then, she paused, her expression and tone growing somber as she turned one more page of the file.  “But, more to the point, Zed and I brought you in because you have worked homicide cases in New York City.”  
  
She revealed a grisly photograph of Ar's headless corpse laying on the lawn of Union Square Park.  Jay's attention sparked when he noticed the black suit bloodied by the hole in the dead man's chest.  
  
“Someone killed an agent out in the open?”  
  
“Looks that way, kid,” Zed acknowledged as he placed more images of the scene before Jay.  “The lab boys found traces of both Ryoan and Juraian energy on his body, to say nothing of the scorch marks left all around the scene.”  
  
Mitsuki's brows furrowed at this news, though she kept silent for the moment, listening to the rookie agent's questions.  
  
“You think it was the princess and the pirate?” the newly minted agent inquired.  
  
The chief shrugged.  “We have no other suspects at the moment.  We've been meticulously watching the skies since the Arquillians left.  Every agent not looking for Ayeka and Washu was either monitoring landings or aiding any returning residents or dignitaries.  No one has detected an unauthorized landing since _Ryo-Ohki_ 's crash in the bay.”  
  
“No one else can put out power like them?”  
  
“Ryoan energy is a racial trait of Ryua's people, and Juraian energy is particular only to the royal family of Jurai.  The latter fact really shrinks the number of suspects.”  
  
“And, Jurai is fairly isolationist,” the assistant chief added.  “There's little reason why one of their royal family would be on the other side of the galaxy from the empire.”  
  
“But, that does beg why she would be here in the first place,” Jay argued, “let alone help kill an MiB agent.”  
  
“So,” Mitsuki interjected, “why am I involved in this investigation?  While I am curious as to whether or not Princess Ayeka murdered this man or not, you have plenty of agents and hardware to handle her or Ryoko.”  
  
Zed pulled one more page from the file and handed it to Mitsuki.  “Because of this, my dear.”  
  
Taking the page, Mitsuki's fair skin grew pale at what she read.  Her breathing escalated as her eyes grew wide.  Jay watched fear take this previously collected GP officer.  
  
“This… This can't be right,” she argued.  
  
“It is,” the chief responded plainly, gravely, a tone Jay had never heard from him.  “The lab checked the signature against GP records, three times.”  
  
Leaning toward Mitsuki, the young agent attempted to read the document himself.  “What's the matter with you?” he asked.  
  
Her fear twisted into a defensive anger as she barked at Zed, “How the hell can NVO energy be here?!”  
  
“NVO energy?” Jay reiterated.  
  
Zed shook his head.  “Look, Mitsuki.  We don't know how it got there.  We only now that it was detected on the scene, far more than just some background radiation.  Something in the fight was _generating_ that energy.”  
  
“So, NVO is 'bad', right?” the young agent questioned.  
  
The GP liaison spun to him and raised her metal hand to his face.  “Does this look 'bad' to you?!”  
  
“Calm down, Mitsuki!” Oh ordered.  “He's only been on-duty for two days.  He doesn't know.”  
  
Officer Matsu glared hotly at the assistant chief before she relented and sat back into her chair.  Jay's eyes fell questioningly upon Oh, who took a breath and began, “There was an incident a year ago.  A major criminal escaped from the GP headquarters and destroyed the entire facility in the process, killing or maiming everyone present.”  
  
The new agent found no words as he again looked at Mitsuki's cybernetic hand and scarred face.  Closing her eyes, the GP liaison gnashed her teeth before continuing the tale herself, “Codenamed K.A.I.N., 'Kain', he was a class Super-A criminal, who rampaged across the universe, destroying entire planets, killing untold number of lifeforms, sentient or not.  He was so powerful that he had to be imprisoned inside another spacetime continuum, fixed to this one at headquarters.”  
  
She looked down at her replacement appendage, watching its digits move at her mental commands, the ghostly feeling of her missing limb still haunting her.  
  
“I was there,” she continued more subdued, lost in her memory.  “The entire station imploded.  I watched a wave of white light consume or crush bulkheads and corridors.  Nothing could stop it.  My colleagues, my friends, were vaporized in front of me, or just vanished in the light.”  Her metal hand gripped the arm of her chair as she concluded, “The light missed me, but collapsed the floor above me.  My left arm was crushed beyond saving.”  
  
Swallowing dryly, she turned her eyes to Jay again, meeting his gaze coldly.  “Kain is the only known creature able to generate NVO energy.”  
  
Zed nodded and added, “What telemetry and logs that survived the GP headquarters' destruction mentioned not only NVO energy, but time axis misalignments and time travel.  Kain has not been seen since.”  
  
Agent O hung her head in thought.  She had not thought about time travel in nearly 20 years, not since Obadiah Price had been sentenced to life in LunarMax.  During her time at Torchwood, she had heard some whispers of a mysterious blue box that defied time and space, though never seen it herself.  On the other hand, during her tenure at MiB, she and Zed had deliberated over evidence that Price had created a time machine.  Though MiB had not been able to obtain the device itself, authentic historical photographs of Price in New York on Black Tuesday, 29 October 1929, had demonstrated a test of the equipment, considering he had not been born until 1941 in the Sirius star system.  The implications of this technology had led MiB to outlaw time travel, a sentiment shared by the Galaxy Police.  
  
“If Kain is connected to this murder,” Oh determined, “we could have far more than an interplanetary incident here.”  Her gaze met Mitsuki's and concluded, “That is why you are here, Officer Matsu.  This may well require the Galaxy Police's direct attention.”  
  
Soberly, Mitsuki nodded, the gravity of the situation weighing heavily on her shoulders.  
  
“We want the two of you to handle this case,” Zed announced.  “Jay, you know the city from your time with the NYPD, probably better than most of our agents.  Mitsuki, you know the suspects, both known and implied, and have the training to handle what could happen.”  
  
“We need to know if Ryoko and Ayeka were involved with Rosenberg's death,” the assistant chief ordered, “as well as the death of our man.  These facts may well become pivotal to relations between Arquillia and Jurai.”  
  
“And, there is one last wrinkle for all this,” the lead agent added as he turned the final page of the case file.  
  
This time, Jay's eyes became alight, but then immediately hurt with the implications of the page's contents.  Before him was a photograph of Agent L, formerly Dr. Laurel Weaver, from her induction the previous morning along with a short dossier on her and her training assignment to Ar.  
  
“Our newest agent is missing,” Zed stated.  “She was temporarily assigned to the deceased Agent R for training when last night's incident occurred.  She is still unaccounted for.”  
  
Jay's emotions twisted and boiled in his gut:  elation that Laurel was not gone, anger that Zed and Oh had kept the information from him, rage that she had disappeared in such violent circumstances.  His eyes fell directly on the chief and demanded, “You _hired_ her?  _When_ were you going to tell me?”  
  
“When we knew she was staying, Jay,” Oh answered, her tone quite placating.  “Just like you, she had to be tested and trained before she became a permanent member of MiB.  There was no point to telling you if she decided to leave us and be neuralized like Kay.”  
  
Jay's fingernails scraped at the arms of his chair.  Logically, he could see her point, though his feelings refused to accept the truth of the matter.  
  
“Is she alive?” he asked icily.  
  
“We don't know,” Oh plainly told him.  “Some witnesses did mention her before they were neuralized, but we have no physical evidence of what become of her.”  
  
“Part of this case will be to find her,” Zed added.  “Ordinarily, Jay, we would not assign someone with personal ties to the victim, but again, you know this town better than most of our agents.  We are trusting you on this.”  Glancing to Mitsuki, he emphasized, “ _Both_ of you.  We've already lost one man in this case.”  
  
Jay just nodded in an angry silence while Mitsuki briefly turned to her compatriot in this task.  She knew what he was feeling, the same loss she felt when numerous GP officers, several friends, were missing after Kain's escape.  She could sympathize with him, and saw an opportunity to help someone like herself.  
  
“Yes, of course,” she answered Zed.

 

* * *

  
On first glance, Masaki Tenchi seemed like an ordinary senior in high school.  Born and raised in the foothills of Okayama Prefecture, he knew mainly the simple country life with few responsibilities.  He rode the bus daily to and from school, worked his family's small garden, and piously visited his grandfather's shrine and his mother's grave.  Even his short rattailed hair style and common brown eyes blended into the general population unobtrusively.  He was an everyman not unlike his father, architect Masaki Nobuyuki.  
  
However, Fate would not leave him to such an idyllic life.  
  
Nearly three years ago, late in his first year in high school, he was returning home when he saw two stars fall from the sky.  Upon investigating, he discovered the crystalline wreckage of a spaceship, and a cyan-maned woman laying nearby, the space pirate Ryua Ryoko.  The young man rushed to her side to check her condition and perhaps to help, when he found her breath reeked of alcohol.  As he gave her some water, she gradually awoke and revealed her amber, catlike eyes to him.  
  
From that first contact, Tenchi's home quickly became a residence for several extraterrestrial women:  Princess Jurai Ayeka, Princess Jurai Sasami, Dr. Hakubi Washu, as well as the Ryoan rogue.  However, of these four, two always clung to him the tightest.  While Sasami certainly viewed Tenchi as a brother figure and Washu saw him as a test subject and curiosity, Ryoko and Ayeka often expressed romantic feelings to the young man.  Naturally, the two not only expressed that affection differently, but also clashed with each other over their desires for him.  Always overt and irreverent, Ryoko would tease and flirt with him, even trying to seduce him outright.  Always demure and proper, Ayeka would speak of high ideals and courtly romance, wanting to win him through her purity rather than base lust.  
  
Poor Tenchi many times just wanted some peace from their incessant badgering for his attentions.  He did not care about the great adventure of piracy.  He did not care about the grand nobility of the royal family.  He was just a Terran boy with simple earthly problems, like homework and exams, even getting a job.  
  
But, he was not just a Terran boy, a truth that would be revealed to him during the coup d'etat on Jurai.  During the beginning of his second year in high school, he came home to find his house was gone, outright taken from its foundations.  A Juraian battleship had come and teleported his entire home into its cargo hold in order to arrest Ayeka on charges of high treason against the crown of Jurai.  Having lived with the princess for three months now, seeing her day after day, he knew she was innocent and joined in the effort to rescue her and later vindicate her.  
  
Among those who joined Ayeka in her journey was Masaki Katsuhito, Tenchi's maternal grandfather, who took a particular interest in this extraterrestrial matter.  From the first day when Masaki house had been taken, Katsuhito seemed to anticipate what the enemy would do.  He knew his way through a Juraian battleship.  He knew that the usurper of the throne was illegitimate.  He knew of a hidden cluster of stars where they could find aid in their final battle.  Questions filled Tenchi's mind.  Who was his grandfather?  How could he know all these intimate facts about Jurai?  What did all this mean?  
  
Deep in the Sacred Place of Jurai, a place only accessible through the express permission of Jurai's royal family, Katsuhito answered all his questions.  In a ceremony, he used Ayeka's robotic guardians, Azaka and Kamidake, to resurrect two legendary knights, using his own power, Jurai's power.  The shrine priest known as Masaki Katsuhito was Yosho, the legendary warrior prince of Ayeka's girlhood stories, the true successor of the throne, and the one impersonated by the usurper.  Consequently, Tenchi was a lineal descendant of Jurai's royal family, a prince, and his mother too would have been a princess and never knew.  
  
Tenchi's world changed.  He struggled with how to internalize this new part of his identity, that he was connected to the stars, that he was royalty.  His earthly worries about classes and jobs paled alongside the sheer grandeur of Jurai, this galaxy-spanning empire then in turmoil.  All of it seemed so large and beyond him.  Where did he fit into this world, if at all?  
  
Then, Ayeka came to him.  Admittedly, he had kept his distance from her in many ways since she was royalty, as well as to keep Ryoko from overreacting, but now their places had changed.  He was a prince, and she a princess, equals in a way.  For that very reason, the violet-tressed lady pleaded with him to stay with her after all was finished, to assume the throne as king himself.  
  
Speechless, Tenchi could only listen as she told him her heart's desire, to be near him always.  The weight on his shoulders only grew heavier.  He knew nothing of leading a nation, unlike Ayeka who had been groomed her entire life to rule.  She spoke of branch families and the lawful right of succession, but he only saw her tears and hated that he could not answer her.  
  
Elsewhere, Katsuhito faced his nemesis Kagato and fell to his old foe.  Racing to the scene, Tenchi and Ayeka not only found Katsuhito seriously injured, but also Ryoko, the powerful space pirate crumpled in a single blow.  With a single swipe, the false king of Jurai then brushed aside the two knights effortlessly and stole Ayeka away to his ship above.  With a challenge, the usurper departed, leaving them all to the mercy of his armada.  
  
While Tenchi and his friends escaped through the interference of Ryoko's chief adversary, the bounty hunter Nagi, the young man's spirit was crushed.  His grandfather was a strong, stoic figure, sagely wise with deadly skills.  With him defeated, everyone turned to Tenchi to lead, to face Kagato, to save Ayeka.  In his last conscious moments, Katsuhito gave Tenchi a Juraian device, Tenchiken, the magical sword that transformed Jurai's power into a blade.  
  
Doubt and worry consumed Tenchi.  How could he do what his grandfather could not?  Did he even have this “Jurai power” used by the royal family?  He could not fight this villain, who defeated both Katsuhito and Ryoko, even the knights.  He was just a boy from Earth, not a Juraian hero like his grandfather.  
  
Then, Washu snapped at him.  The great scientist had always seen a power deep in him, an untapped potential surpassing that of his grandfather.  However, since he was unaware of his ability, she was unsure and remained to study him, to solve this mystery.  Now, she needed him to fulfill her expectations, to stop the doom that would soon befall them all for the knowledge they possessed, the truth behind Jurai's emperor.  
  
Alone, Tenchi dwelt on her words, on his own identity, while staring at his grandfather's sword.  All his life, the old priest had trained him to wield a sword, seemingly just for tradition and exercise.  Ayeka had once asked him why he learned the sword, and honestly, he never considered the question.  Now, he could see why, to protect his friends, his family.  
  
And, to his amazement, Tenchiken reacted to that sentiment and formed a gentle blue blade for him, not unlike Ryoko's energy sword.  Though he was uncertain of his victory, Tenchi chose to fight, to save Ayeka, to avenge his grandfather.  
  
Then, Ryoko stopped him.  She tempted him, to escape with her for a “honeymoon in space”, to be free from this danger, to be with her.  Her offer sounded sorely tempting, but unfortunately, his heart would not allow him to forsake Ayeka, to leave her to whatever fate Kagato had for her.  
  
Then, Ryoko threatened him.  She had power and, considering his novice skill with Jurai's power, could easily steal him away if she wanted.  For a moment, fear rushed through him until her resolve crumbled, and she embraced him, closely, desperately.  She cried into his shoulder that she could not bear the thought of losing him.  
  
His heart tore open listening to her sobs, feeling her clutch him so tightly, the tremors of her body.  To see a woman so powerful and proud brought to this state gave him pause.  Part of him wished he could go with her, to escape this fight.  Since she came to Earth, he had seen her change gradually.  In a few months, she had softened from the vicious criminal the GP depicted to his close friend, this woman who now pulled at his heart.  He did not want to hurt her, ever.  
  
But, he gently pushed her away.  He had to face Kagato, not just for Ayeka but for himself as well.  Despite her tears and her words, he walked past her until she called to him one last time.  Sadly, he turned back to her, but she raised her eyes to his and gave one more offer, to escort him to Jurai herself.  
  
Aboard _Ryo-Ohki_ , Ryoko valiantly carved a path through Jurai's defensive perimeter while their other allies distracted the main fleet.  At her side, Tenchi watched as she pushed herself, using every power she possessed to destroy every impediment in their way.  Around them, _Ryo-Ohki_ 's bulkheads blew and caught fire from the nearly endless assault.  Ryoko even teleported onto a Juraian defense satellite and destroyed it singlehandedly, chaining explosions of several others nearby.  
  
Yet, Tenchi could see her strength waning, the effort growing with each action.  He knew she had been wounded by Kagato, but she never spoke a word of it.  She merely roared that she would get Tenchi to Jurai, swearing herself to it.  
  
Soon enough, they arrived at the Jurai palace and parted ways, Ryoko excusing herself from saving that “other woman”.  For that moment, their eyes lingered, until Ryoko yelled at him to hurry.  Reluctantly, he turned, but not before giving another look back at her, holding her side, maintaining her piratical bravado.  
  
With the knights flanking him, Tenchi rushed through the palace toward the throne room, toward Ayeka, toward Kagato.  Along the way, Azaka and Kamidake broke away to face the usurper's own knights, leaving the young prince to face his foe alone.  Once at his destination, Tenchi drew his grandfather's sword, forged its blue blade, and demanded the villain release Ayeka.  Unfortunately, the false king would not be swayed by words and stood before Tenchi with his own energy sword drawn, its blade black and edged in crimson.  
  
The young prince ran at his foe only to be knocked aside with little thought.  The usurper attacked from a distance, and Tenchi could only barely block the wave of black light, which rent him from his feet once again.  Kagato teleported, not unlike Ryoko, to stand over Tenchi, voicing his disappointment at the bloodline of Jurai, all while Ayeka watched and screamed for her beloved.  
  
Lying on the floor, Tenchi kept pushing himself up, despite his aching body having skidded down the stairs and across the floor.  Likewise, his sword continued to form a blade, reflecting Tenchi's desire to stand, to fight back.  Regardless, Kagato raised his sword, murder in his eyes, and prepared to end the young prince's life, to accomplish his goal, ending the direct bloodline of Jurai's royal family.  
  
Then, Ayeka's power flared.  Next to the throne, her tiara glowed a brilliant emerald as she smashed the barrier around her.  Tenchi had known she was a powerful woman, but she never flaunted her abilities like Ryoko.  In this moment, the princess gathered all of her energy in an attempt to save Tenchi, to take her responsibility for all that has happened.  Unfortunately, her blast washed over Kagato impotently, allowing him to retaliate and silence her effortlessly.  The villain turned his attention to Ayeka, raised his sword, and readied to end her instead of Tenchi.  The young man pushed himself to his feet, yelling for him to stop, screaming that no harm would come to Ayeka.  
  
And, a light shown down on Tenchi, choosing him.  Together, the three of them shared a vision of Jurai replaced with Earth, the eternal green of spring supplanted by the golds and reds of autumn.  As the two visions of the throne room converged, he could hear his grandfather's words, supporting him, giving him strength.  Once more, he held Tenchiken aloft and rekindled its blade, now powerfully ionizing the air around it.  He would not fail.  He would win.  
  
Confused and angered, Kagato spouted rhetoric, but Tenchi did not care.  Finally, the two locked swords, and in the end, the young prince cut through the usurper's side, killing him.  After Kagato fell, Ayeka ran down to Tenchi and clung to his chest, collapsing after the entire ordeal while he embraced her warmly.  
  
Afterward, Ayeka restored order to her planet, and once again asked Tenchi to take his place on Jurai, by her side.  However, seeing what became of Kagato, he decided to follow in his grandfather's footsteps and return to the simple life on Earth.  Like Ryoko, Ayeka tempted him, saying he could have whatever he wanted as emperor, but he knew this could never be.  He would never have had those simple moments and the happiness he had on Earth if he chose to remain on Jurai.  
  
Tenchi could see her heart break, the second he had broken in such a short time, though the only signs were the tears streaming down her cheeks.  Ultimately, she could not face him after that denial.  She turned her back on him and declared she would not see him off as she left him standing alone.  
  
As he returned to Earth, he cursed himself, not for denying the crown, but for hurting two of his friends.  Both Ryoko and Ayeka cared deeply for him, and in truth, he cared for them both as well.  He wanted them both happy, but sadly, to please one would crush the other.  Their household had had a tenuous balance that he walked by never committing to either of the pirate or the princess.  Also, given their explosive abilities and tempers, he dared not break that balance.  Now, he seemed to have lost both of them, Ayeka to her responsibilities on Jurai and Ryoko to wherever she had gone after the battle.  
  
Once his home was placed back on its foundation, he resumed his studies.  Though his time crossing the galaxy was excused for a “family emergency” through corroboration of his father and grandfather, he had missed nearly an entire trimester of classes.  Ultimately, he was held back a year and began his second year of study in April 1996.  
  
And, all the while, he was lonely.  He had grown accustomed to the constant presence of all his newly acquired friends and missed them once they all split their separate ways.  He worried about what became of Ryoko after her valkyrie-like assault on Jurai.  He wondered how Ayeka was faring on Jurai.  
  
Then, as he was leaving for school, he heard a voice whisper his name, Ryoko's voice.  He kept turning as her harmonious voice called his name until he finally saw her.  Standing on a stone, she was just as he remembered her:  strong, beautiful, proud.  She embraced him tightly, a long-lost friend come home.  Soon enough, all their other friends, including Ayeka, returned to Earth and resumed their respective roles.  
  
Tonight, over a year later and in his final year of study, Masaki Tenchi leaned back from the desk in his room and gazed at the ceiling.  For the past few hours, he had been poring over his mathematics assignment, but his mind refused to focus on the task.  The last ten minutes specifically had been dedicated to sketching a woman's visage in the corner of his paper, complete with a lion's mane of spiked hair.  He could not care less about abstract calculations at the moment.  
  
Yesterday, just before noon, Ryoko and Ayeka had left with Washu and Ryo-Ohki for some errand, but had yet to return.  While Ryoko and Washu had been known to vanish for a day or more, Ayeka was far more punctual, usually present as she tried to help around the house.  The elder princess of Jurai had told her sister that they were leaving to investigate a matter Washu had brought to their attention, but neglected to elaborate to the preteen Juraian.  Tenchi had been tending the fields at the time and did not get the story himself.  
  
Now, over a day later, worries had only grown.  After returning from school, Tenchi attempted to assuage Sasami's concerns by emphasizing that Ayeka was with Ryoko and Ryo-Ohki, as well as Washu, that all should be well between the four of them.  However, that did not pacify his own thoughts.  After the events on Jurai, to say nothing of their trip through time to 1970, Tenchi did not relish the thought of his friends stumbling into danger again, particularly Ryoko and Ayeka.  
  
Finally, at about 9pm, his father called for him, “Tenchi, I think you need to come down here.”  
  
“Be there in a minute,” the prince answered back.  
  
Setting his books and notes aside, Tenchi exited his room and scaled down the stairs leading to the family room adjacent to the kitchen.  There stood not only his father and Sasami, but also two other close friends of the family, GP Detectives Makibi Kiyone and Kuramitsu Mihoshi.  
  
While Ryoko had been the first star to fall that autumn day in 1994, immediately behind her had been Mihoshi, in hot pursuit of the wanted felon.  Always bubbly and lighthearted, the blond police officer briefly took up residence in the Masaki home under her partner came to rescue her from her marooned state.  As such, she was regularly involved in the happenings of the household when not on-duty, often sleeping on the couch or watching television.  
  
On the other hand, her teal-haired partner Kiyone was far more serious and career-minded.  Under orders from her superiors, she had been sent to ascertain the fate of Mihoshi a month after she and Ryoko crashed on Earth.  Shortly after befriending the household, the pair were assigned to the Sol System as resident officers, responsible to protect and serve the people of the area.  Considering the only sentient life known in the system was on Earth, a society lacking faster-than-light (FTL) travel, their patrols were exceedingly boring.  Now and then, someone would be stranded near one of the outer planets or collide with another vehicle, equivalent to fender benders in terrestrial traffic.  For one like Kiyone, who aspired to the higher ranks and galaxy-changing cases at headquarters, this position seemed like a death sentence for her career.  
  
Determined to make her own way, Kiyone refused to move into the Masaki home and instead chose a low-rent apartment as her residence, dragging Mihoshi along with her.  Unfortunately, the Terran equivalent of their pay made their day-to-day expenses difficult to cover, so routinely, the pair had to take side jobs in order to make due.  Often, Tenchi and the others had thought of the duo much akin to the “Odd Couple”, the straight-laced Kiyone and the bubble-headed Mihoshi.  Many skills came naturally to Kiyone, despite her lamentations over her situation.  Meanwhile, Mihoshi many times would forget a crucial step and fail catastrophically, despite her eternal optimism.  Both remained close to the Masaki household and routinely visited, occasionally partaking of the family's kindnesses due to their monetary situation.  
  
Naturally, both became involved with the coup d'etat on Jurai, particularly when Kiyone discovered that the upper echelon of the Galaxy Police were assisting Kagato's regime.  During those dire months, their accumulated skills not only of police tactics and procedure, but also from their odd jobs, served to help the journey from Earth to Jurai.  Also, their patrol-ship _Yagami_ served as home, the cargo bay just large enough to hold the Masaki house.  In the end, both were decorated and promoted to headquarters, replacing some of the officials who were involved with Kagato.  Sadly, their promotions were revoked after a fiasco with a misfiled piece of evidence in a major case, reverting them to their resident officer posts.  
  
Over the past year, both Mihoshi and Kiyone had often been off-world with their Galaxy Police colleagues.  Since Kain destroyed the GP headquarters, the organization had been struggling to reorganize itself:  choosing new leaders, reconstructing their central base, helping their fallen comrades, all in addition to their usual duties.  Kiyone had been actively attending every meeting she can to voice her thoughts and concerns on the leadership and reorganization of the GP.  Mihoshi had been focused on humanitarian causes, helping her friends adjust to their losses in the wake of the tragedy.  About once or twice a month, they had returned to Earth to rest, as well as visit their friends in Okayama.  
  
Tonight, from their uniformed attire and dire tone, nothing was social or recuperative about this visit.  
  
“Hey, Tenchi,” Mihoshi chimed, still bubbly despite the situation.  
  
“Hi, Mihoshi,” he returned before nodding to her partner.  “Kiyone.  What brings you out this late?”  
  
“We got a message from Washu,” Kiyone began.  “She had contacted us about a possible emergency.  We wanted to talk with her about it.”  
  
“I'm sorry,” the prince apologized, “but she, Ryoko, and Ayeka have been gone for over a day.  We've actually started to get worried about them.”  
  
“They said they were going to check out something, but haven't come home,” Sasami added.  
  
“That's what I feared,” the teal-tressed detective remarked.  “Washu had reported that she discovered an Arquillian battle cruiser in orbit over Earth, and that it was issuing a global threat to the planet.”  
  
“We came as soon as we got the message at the new headquarters,” Mihoshi explained.  
  
“Washu probably recruited Ryoko and Ayeka to investigate the ship herself.”  
  
Concerned and frightened, Sasami clung to Tenchi's hand as he slightly squeezed her hand, being supportive for her.  
  
“Is this battleship still there?” Nobuyuki asked, worried about the global situation.  
  
“No,” Kiyone answered, “it seems to have left a few hours after Washu reported it.”  
  
“Do you know why it was here?”  
  
“Washu's message told us that they were after 'the Galaxy',” the green-haired detective replied, “an artifact the Arquillians had hidden on Earth.”  
  
“Since they've left,” Mihoshi surmised, “they probably got it.”  
  
“What about Ryoko, Ayeka, and Washu?” Tenchi inquired, his concern bleeding into his tone.  
  
“We're not sure,” Kiyone admitted, “but I have a hunch.  Washu's message mentioned that the battle cruiser was transmitting to a location in North America and addressed their signal to 'MiB'.  Likely, that means they were communicating with the Men in Black.”  
  
“The 'Men in Black'?” Nobuyuki asked with a brow raised.  “You mean those conspiracy theories from the United States?”  
  
“While I'm sure some of the stories are exaggerated,” the teal-tressed detective remarked, “the Men in Black are quite real.  They are one of a few Earth-based organizations that have made official contact with other galactic societies.  The Galaxy Police recognize them as a policing body with primary jurisdiction on Earth, notably except the Japanese Islands.  Ryoko, Ayeka, or Washu might be in their custody.”  
  
Tenchi's concerns only grew at this point.  Until this point, all the Masaki household's hijinks had remained contained in Okayama, pleasantly in Mihoshi and Kiyone's jurisdiction.  Considering Ryoko's aid in the coup d'etat and the defeat of Kain, both officers had been very understanding in letting her remain free, under the watchful eye of the rest of the household.  The Men in Black, on the other hand, were an unknown party, and likely not privy to how Ryoko had changed in the last few years.  Factoring in Ayeka's temper and any of Washu's zany devices, the young prince could see them incarcerated fairly quickly.  
  
“But, wait a minute,” Tenchi interjected.  “If they have ties to the Galaxy Police, wouldn't they have contacted you two, especially if they had Ryoko or Ayeka?”  
  
“Actually, no,” Mihoshi replied.  “After headquarters was destroyed, the higher-ups decided to make ties to several planets more official.”  
  
“The sector captain decided to appoint an official liaison with the Men in Black,” Kiyone elaborated.  “Since we've been off-world with the reorganization and reconstruction, they have handled more of the daily duties of the solar system in our absence.”  
  
“Could you contact someone to know what's happened?” Tenchi asked.  
  
The teal-tressed detective nodded.  “Yes, and that was our next move.  Mihoshi and I will head to New York and sort all this out in person.  Our communications with Washu should rectify any problems the Men in Black have with her or Ayeka,” she explained before her blue eyes met Tenchi's and soberly added, “but Ryoko is another matter.  They could have her handed over to the GP liaison for trial.”  
  
“What can we do?” he requested.  “We all know her and can vouch that she hasn't been causing any trouble since coming back to Earth.”  
  
“I know,” she acknowledged, “but the law is still very clear on the matter.”  
  
Frustrated, Tenchi glanced to the side.  Part of him realized this possibility always loomed over their life here on Earth.  Ryoko had never actually faced judgment for her crimes, and her apparent death after the Juraian coup had allowed her to escape prosecution and incarceration.  Officially, Mihoshi and Kiyone had been ignoring their duty to leave Ryoko free, despite her gradual changes or even her role in ousting Kagato and defeating Kain.  All of them had left the matter in silence, considering the relationships of everyone involved.  
  
Now, the matter could no longer be ignored.  Ryoko was a criminal and should be punished for her past actions.  
  
Kiyone rested a hand on his shoulder and somberly said, “We'll do what we can, Tenchi.  Mihoshi and I can testify to her part in restoring Ayeka on Jurai, as could Ayeka herself.  That might pull some sway.”  
  
Yet, this did not sate Tenchi's feelings on the issue.  
  
“Then, I'll go too,” he stated, his eyes meeting hers in return.  “She's part of our family, and I can't wait here doing nothing.”  
  
“Me too!” Sasami chimed.  “I don't want Ryoko to go to jail, or Ayeka or Washu.”  
  
The green-haired woman could understand their feelings, as she too was among Ryoko's friends.  However, the law still remained and could not be easily muted for their whims.  The fact that the two resident officers could evade cuffing the space pirate themselves had been a perfect storm of Earth's remoteness, jurisdictional lines, and vacant positions.  Admittedly, Kiyone had hoped for Ryoko's presence to be unnoticed until the statute of limitations had wiped her record clean, the detectives' little present to their ally.  
  
Mihoshi then turned to her partner.  “I think they should come along, Kiyone.  I mean, wouldn't it be better to have more people who know the real Ryoko?”  
  
The blond officer had a point.  Witnesses, members of the group that restored Ayeka to her planet, would be helpful to showing Ryoko's role and impact on the entire affair, which could sway some sympathy for her.  Moreover, Tenchi's presence might help keep Ryoko's temper, and Ayeka's, from igniting more trouble.  Likewise, Sasami could dull her sister's sharp tongue.  
  
On other hand, Tenchi and Sasami would be foreign nationals, Juraian nobility, in another country.  The problem could become more exacerbated than it already has been, and she did not want to put either of them in an awkward position.  
  
_Nevertheless_ , Kiyone told herself, _having everyone there would bring everything to light, if needed._  
  
“Alright,” she conceded.  “We can bring you two along, but I want you both to remember that this is another country, as well as another policing organization.  We are going to have to respect their rules.”  
  
“I understand,” Tenchi accepted.  
  
“What about me?” Nobuyuki asked.  “I could say something as well.”  
  
“That's a nice offer, Mr. Masaki,” Kiyone said kindly, “but the Men in Black do have strict policies about secrecy.  They routinely erase the memories of most Terrans who are involved in extraterrestrial events, even on the scale of years if needed.”  
  
The architect gulped at the implication while Tenchi inquired, “Would they do the same to me?”  
  
“The technology they use is attuned specifically to Terran physiology,” she explained.  “Since you have Juraian heritage, it shouldn't affect you.  Just in case, we can play to your Juraian side, so the issue shouldn't come up.  We can talk about the details on the way.”  
  
The prince agreed as he and Sasami stepped forward to join Kiyone and Mihoshi in returning to their patrol-ship.  
  
Nobuyuki watched, concerned.  The architect had been present throughout the entire journey to Jurai, playing his minor role in maintaining the household.  Often, he did feel powerless in these situations since he was not a great warrior prince or a trained space cop.  He was only a man, though professionally educated and steadfast in the support of his son.  He had seen his son becoming a man, standing against an alien despot, avenging his grandfather's defeat, saving the princess of an entire empire.  Though the Terran father was proud, he still worried about his son, as well as the other residents and friends of the Masaki household.  
  
However, this issue appeared mostly sedate, but his paternal instinct would not be sated merely by the situation's appearance.  
  
“Tenchi,” Nobuyuki began, “be careful, son, and look after Sasami, alright?”  
  
“I will, Dad,” his son answered, holding the little princess's hand as they left with the two detectives.

 

* * *

  
Agent L awoke to a throbbing in her skull, feeling the veins through her cranium pulse angrily from some injury.  She raised her hand to her brow, hoping a mild pressure might alleviate the headache pounding on her brain.  However, her hand felt gauze on her forehead, spurring her muddled thoughts to wonder how that dressing arrived on her body.  
  
Her eyes fluttered open, finding a white ceiling hanging over her, clean and well-maintained.  Rolling her head to the side, the good doctor winced at the sunlight filtering through the window drapes.  The drapes themselves were quite decorative, brown and woven in embroidered with floral patterns.  She laid upon a comfortable bed, gently holding her with its immaculate white sheets and soft mattress.  
  
Gradually, Elle gathered her memories about the previous night:  searching for Princess Ayeka, intercepting the space pirate Ryoko, Agent R murdered in the park, firing a tiny gun at another insectoid creature.  After that, she remembered only pain and darkness until waking here and now.  Given the ridiculous recoil of the small firearm, she reasoned that she likely slammed into some surface and was concussed.  
  
_Yet_ , she asked herself, _where am I now, and who brought me here?_  
  
Slowly pushing herself to a sitting posture, Elle panned her gaze over the beautiful décor of the room.  During her medical career as “Dr. Laurel Weaver”, she had visited several hotels for conferences around the country and recognized the hallmarks right away:  relatively small space, a single king-sized bed, a table with a couple chairs, a door for a bathroom.  However, this room was far more lavishly attired than those she rented on the cheap.  The chairs had intricate exotic embroidery, matching the large rug covering the hardwood floor.  The table matched the floor, probably the same variety of material, and polished to a shine.  Behind the table and chairs stood a liquor cabinet, fully stocked with several expensive brands behind its glass doors.  
  
_Whoever brought me here_ , she remarked to herself, _they didn't spare a penny._  
  
Then, her ears caught a rustling from the opposite end of the bed.  Curious, she knelt near the edge of the mattress and peeked down to where the comforter folded at the foot of the bed.  There, the cloth wiggled and tossed around a small form beneath.  Given the events and creatures she had seen in the last few days, she wondered at what was hiding under her bed:  a talking dog, a giant insect, a squid-like being, or even a sentient robot.  Tentatively, she slid her hand along the comforter toward the motion near the floor, aiming to pinch the sheet and fling it away.  
  
Before her fingers could reach their destination, two furry paws poked out from beneath the comforter and pulled it aside.  Ryo-Ohki's whiskered face peeked back at her, the cabbit mewing playfully.  Elle sat back on the bed while the cat-like creature shimmied her way out from under the comforter and hopped onto the foot of the mattress.  The new agent narrowed her eyes at the little animal, who looked back at her with an innocent curiosity of her own.  
  
“Aren't you a cute little puffball?” the doctor remarked, noting the feline and leporine qualities of her companion.  “I take it you're not from around here either.”  
  
Ryo-Ohki just cocked her head to the side and mewed curiously.  While the cabbit had learned Cerulian, and Japanese by extension, through the link to her mistress, she did not have a working knowledge of English.  Of course, her inability to speak humanoid languages did not help matters any either.  
  
However, Elle had owned a few cats in her life, not including Orion's recent residence in the morgue.  Slowly, she extended her fingers toward Ryo-Ohki's nose, and like most tame felines, the cabbit sniffed her digits.  The little creature recognized the gesture and mewed happily, giving the doctor a bit more confidence.  Elle then gently petted Ryo-Ohki's head, spurring a little smile from the expressive animal.  
  
After a moment, Ryo-Ohki's ears perked, and she turned her attention to the door.  With a happy mew, she hopped off the bed and darted to the door.  Elle sat on the edge of the bed when a loud click came from the door, allowing plenty of conversation into the room from three distinct voices.  A coil of apprehension tightened in the doctor's gut until the visitors turned the corner and revealed themselves.  
  
Ayeka, Washu, and Frank the Pug entered and took immediate note of Elle's return to consciousness.  After the events of the previous night, Ayeka and Washu had returned to their usual states of dress:  a regal kimono for the princess and the green jacket of the Science Academy for the minute genius.  Likewise, the Juraian no longer wore a wig, letting her violet tresses fall in their normal twin ponytails.  Ryoan scientist also had reverted her hair to its original spiked nature.  Ryo-Ohki perched herself atop Washu's shoulder, seeming very at home in such a place.  In this state, Elle recognized them more readily from the photographs she had seen at headquarters.  
  
On the other hand, Frank remained just the same as he sat in the middle of the floor and addressed her, “You finally wake up, lady?”  
  
“Considering a dog is asking me that,” Elle retorted, “I do have my doubts.”  
  
“She did hit the ground rather hard after firing that weapon,” Ayeka stated, her voice speaking very clear English.  
  
However, the former mortician noticed that the princess's lip motions did not align with her spoken words.  While she momentarily attributed this discrepancy with her head injury, Elle then realized that Ayeka never spoke a syllable of English the preceding night.  
  
“Wait,” the medical doctor said to the princess.  “You speak English now?”  
  
“Not exactly,” Washu interjected, her lips matching her words perfectly.  “She is still _speaking_ Cerulian, but you are _hearing_ English, which apparently is your native language.”  
  
“That can't work,” Elle argued.  “The sound waves made by her mouth can't just change.”  
  
“True,” the genius admitted, “but they can be translated by an intermediary, such as the transducelators I put in your ears.”  
  
“The _what_?” The Terran woman rubbed her finger along her ear and found a device placed within her ear canal, small enough to be unnoticed until she searched for it.  
  
“It's a little something I put together, so that Frank and I wouldn't be translating for you and Ayeka all the time.  She has one as well.”  
  
“Yes,” the princess acknowledged, “though I do wonder why you didn't offer this toy yesterday when we were wandering around the city.”  
  
“The transducelator only works if both parties have one,” Washu explained, an impatient edge to her voice.  “The machine doesn't translate spoken words, only those heard.  Had I given you one yesterday, you would have understood everything being said, but no one would understand the Cerulian or Juraian words you were saying.”  
  
“That alone still would have been a benefit,” the princess rebuked, “especially as you paraded me about town in that most inappropriate outfit.”  
  
“So,” Elle surmised, “you really are Princess Ayeka then?”  
  
“I am,” the regal-tressed lady answered, “and you are a 'Man in Black', despite being a woman?”  
  
“Apparently,” the medical doctor replied, “but I didn't exactly name them.  I've only been with them a day.”  
  
“That figures,” Frank explained, “since you were stuck with Ar.  He's been on Zed and Oh's shit-list for a couple years now:  too trigger-happy.  They had him in the office doing gun training and tours of headquarters until this mess started.  He was probably only put in the field  because MiB was shorthanded.”  
  
Thinking back to Agent R's grisly demise, Elle somberly remarked, “Maybe if he wasn't such an ass, he'd be with us now.”  
  
“I am sorry for the loss of your compatriot,” Ayeka respectfully expressed.  
  
“Thanks,” the former mortician said gratefully.  “I've seen a lot of death in my career, but never that close up.”  
  
“You're a physician then, I take it?” Washu concluded.  “You are certainly more well-spoken and knowledgeable than most.”  
  
“Forensic pathologist actually, though I did serve in a couple residencies during my post-doc days.”  
  
“Not a terrible area of study,” the genius commented, “though I'm sure it gets repetitious.”  
  
“Not to mention depressing and desensitizing,” the other academic added.  “I don't envy the guy who has to figure out what happened last night.”  
  
“What has been happening?” Ayeka finally asked.  “To be honest, I don't believe we actually have your name yet.”  
  
“'Agent L' is what I've been using since yesterday,” Elle replied.  “As to what's happening, I can only tell you what I know.  Two days ago, a giant bug assassinated an Arquillian prince to get the Galaxy.  MiB stepped in to eliminate the assassin and return the Galaxy.”  
  
“That explains why the battle cruiser was in orbit,” Washu acknowledged as she folded her arms.  “Ayeka, Ryoko, and I went to investigate why it was there when we were shot down.”  
  
“You did identify yourselves, right?” Frank inquired.  
  
“I personally announced myself in each hail,” Ayeka stated.  
  
Frank scratched his chin as he thought.  “And, they shot at you anyway?”  
  
“Not at first,” the princess recalled.  “The first shot was at the planet, near the north pole.”  
  
“We didn't see what shot us down,” the genius continued, “but now, I'm fairly certain it was not the Arquillian ship.”  
  
“You mean the creature from the park?” Elle deduced.  
  
“Precisely,” the scientist concurred.  “He was fixated on Ryoko and only engaged others who impeded him.”  
  
“He looked a lot like the bug that killed the Arquillian prince,” the physician elaborated, “and my superiors thought you two might be involved in that incident.  Is there a connection?”  
  
Ayeka's eyes narrowed as she retorted, “I can plainly say that we had _nothing_ to do with that assassination.”  
  
“I don't think that was her insinuation, Ayeka,” Washu clarified, “but to clear up that matter, we have alibis anyway.”  She pointed to Ryo-Ohki, who mewed questioningly.  “Ryo-Ohki's logs of our flight and crash should be more than sufficient to show we weren't involved.  Failing that, we could always have Tenchi and Sasami testify.”  
  
The regal-tressed woman folded her arms in a huff.  “I would hope so.  I am _quite_ tired of being accused of wrongdoing.”  
  
“Still,” Elle reiterated, “why would this new bug want to attack Ryoko?”  
  
“She is a space pirate,” Ayeka reminded everyone.  “She seemed familiar with the Arquillians, so it might stand to reason that she's had dealings with their adversaries.”  
  
“No, I haven't, Ayeka,” Ryoko's voice answered.  
  
All turned toward the window to see the Ryoan pirate phase through the wall, her amber gaze coolly set on her Juraian rival.  Elle's eyes widened to witness the rogue's incorporeal form firsthand, the woman's body as a ghost passing through the solid object.  In person, the young woman seemed less imposing, notably shorter than the former mortician.  However, having also seen her in combat, Elle knew better than to judge by appearances.  
  
With a hand on her hip, the cyan-maned fury retorted, “I've done some very bad things in my life, but I don't like getting blamed for something I didn't do either.  I know the Arquillians because I hit a convoy of theirs some years back.  They caught me and handed me over to the GP.  You can check their files if you want.  I steered clear of them ever since.”  
  
“Then,” Ayeka asked, “what did he mean by 'old debts need to be paid'?  He clearly was targeting you for some reason.”  
  
Ryoko glanced to the side.  After receiving a transducelator from Washu, she had been sitting atop the hotel's roof thinking about those very words most of the night.  Throughout her life, the Ryoan rogue had lived without regret, carving her own path apart from the pirate guilds of her native Ryua.  She had never encountered a bug, though she had certainly heard of them in her travels:  a brutal insectoid race of immense strength, and a short temper.  
  
However, never had she known of a bug with the powers displayed last night.  This bug could fly without wings and could form an energy sword, in addition to his preexisting physicality.  His powers seemed to mirror her own, a fact that sent a chill through the Ryoan's spine.  She briefly recalled some of the legends and stories told to her as a small girl, those that made her jump at shadows in the night.  
  
Though she lived free from regret, Ryoko knew of one debt that she had never paid:  her survival after the assault on Jurai.  She had never discovered who brought her and Ryo-Ohki to the hospital, or who paid for the care they received.  She had some ideas, but never investigated them.  All that mattered was that she and Ryo-Ohki were alive, and so was Tenchi.  
  
_But_ , she asked herself, _they wouldn't use a monster like that, would they?_  
  
“I don't know,” Ryoko declared, concealing what suspicions she did have, “but I'd like to know how a bug could fight like a Ryoan.”  The pirate turned to the genius and asked, “Washu?”  
  
Somberly, the minute researcher wedded her fingers and responded, “Because he was _generating_ Ryoan energy.”  
  
This fact took both Ryoko and Ayeka aback.  
  
“How the hell can that be?” the pirate demanded.  
  
“Quite,” the princess agreed.  “Ryoan energy is a particular trait of your race, is it not, Washu?”  
  
“It has been, yes,” the scientist acknowledged, “but that doesn't change the fact that my scans showed the energy arising from his body.”  
  
“Could you tell me what 'Ryoan energy' is, Dr. Hakubi?” Elle requested.  “I got a very brief explanation of Ryoko's use of such power, but not a description of what it is.”  
  
“Ryoan energy is an ethereal psychokinetic emanation of members of the Ryoan race,” Washu began, “much like Jurai power is for the Jurai royal family.  Currently, there is no consistent explanation for its existence, though I personally favor an evolution of the electromagnetic field generated by a living creature.  Generally, a Ryoan will begin to manifest and control the power at puberty, giving rise to abilities such as flight, energy manipulation, and an incorporeal form.”  
  
“Then, how is this bug generating something particular to your people?”  
  
“The same way he's generating Jurai power and NVO energy, I expect.”  
  
These words struck Ayeka cold as she raised a hand to her chest.  As princess of the Jurai royal family, she knew the myths and legends of her people, and one of those told of the origin of Jurai's might.  They had been chosen by the mother goddess herself, bestowing their lineage with a power, a right to rule.  That power made the Jurai royal family unique, powerful, destined.  For a monster such as this to carry her people's divine gift contradicted Ayeka's entire worldview.  
  
“Th-that's _not_ possible!” the princess argued, her mind denying the scientist's claim.  “Only descendants of the Jurai royal family can wield Jurai's power.”  Her brow twisted into a scowl under her tiara.  “And, it certainly cannot coexist with the shadowy power of Kain!”  
  
“Ordinarily, Ayeka,” Washu admitted, “I would agree with you.  NVO energy is Jurai's antithesis, and they should not be able to coexist.  However, the readings don't lie.”  
  
With a wave of her hand, she summoned her phantom laptop and guided it before Ayeka.  There, the princess could clearly read the streams of data and analyses that the genius had prepared during the night.  In particular, a video clip played in the corner giving context to the data, when Illirg tore through Ayeka's barrier.  
  
“Unmistakably,” the researcher declared, “he tore through your Juraian shield so easily because he was using NVO energy in his claws.”  
  
She sped the clip forward to Illirg's exchanges with Ryoko, showing the data streams there as well.  
  
“Here, he used Ryoan energy to fly and form his sword.”  
  
Once again, she quickly indexed to a scan of Ar's corpse.  
  
“And, the MiB agent's body had a residual charge consistent with both Juraian and Ryoan energy.  This creature is alternating between all three powers.”  
  
“How can that be?” Ayeka asked.  
  
“Clearly,” Washu hypothesized, “both Ryoan and Juraian energies have a genetic component since they are passed from one generation to the next.  If the genes were carefully spliced together, one could create a chimera with both abilities.”  
  
“Then,” Ryoko interjected, “what about Kain?  He didn't have a body, so there were no genes to splice.  He _was_ NVO energy.”  
  
“At least not to our knowledge,” the scientist corrected.  “We didn't exactly have a corpse to study after he was destroyed.”  With a sigh, she added, “But, you do have a point.  All of the studies of NVO energy were based upon Kain while he was in captivity with the Galaxy Police.  There weren't any other sources of that energy, until this bug appeared.”  
  
“Regardless of how he gets his power or of why he is after Ryoko,” Elle said, “he murdered a man in cold blood, and is apt to do so again.  We should contact MiB headquarters and have them handle him.”  
  
“I agree,” Ayeka seconded.  “This is a matter for the authorities, and we can determine the beast's origins after it is no longer a threat.  Besides, we should clear our own names as well.”  
  
“Hell no!” Ryoko retorted, her heated feline gaze falling on both the agent and the princess.  “I've already been locked up there, and I'd rather not be again.  I say we take off for home and forget this happened.”  
  
Ryo-Ohki mewed sadly at her mistress, who sighed heavily, “Give it a couple hours.  You should be able to transform soon.”  
  
“I wouldn't just fly into the sky if I were you,” Frank remarked.  “MiB has its own network of satellites monitoring the comings and goings around Earth.  They'd see your ship pop out of the clouds and immediately call the GP to grab your ass.”  
  
“They haven't before,” the pirate rebuked.  
  
“You probably weren't connected to an assassination or a murder before either, I bet,” the pug barked back.  
  
“And, the bug is chasing _you_ , Ryoko,” Washu reiterated.  “If he was the one that shot us down, he could follow you back to Tenchi's house.  I doubt you want to bring this trouble to his door next.”  
  
At those words, guilt poured into the pirate's heart.  Since her return to Earth, she had been distancing herself from her larcenous history, focusing on winning Tenchi's affections.  Truthfully, she hoped he would never learn of her life before she came to Earth.  Thankfully, Earth's relative isolation had kept most of her past away, and she certainly did not want to drag this problem with her back to him.  
  
_She's right_ , Ryoko told herself.  
  
“The fact still remains that I don't want to be put in jail again,” she announced.  
  
“Very well,” Ayeka conceded.  “Why don't Washu and I accompany Agent L to her headquarters?  We could straighten out the matter as best we can while you and Ryo-Ohki hide here.  She needs to recover more anyway, yes?”  
  
“She does,” the pirate admitted, “but I don't like staying in one place when I'm being hunted.  Ryo-Ohki can stay here and finish recovering, but I'll tag along with you, at a distance.  If things go wrong, I'll be there to fix it.”  
  
“Fair enough.”  
  
“Hey!” Frank interjected.  “What about me?  You got me involved in this mess to help you mediate with MiB.”  
  
“And, you shall,” Ayeka answered.  “After all, you're a witness to what happened last night just the same.”  
  
“True,” he accepted, “but I still want the thanks from the Jurai royal family.  You could make me a knight, or a duke.”  
  
Sweat beaded on the princess's brow as she nodded, “We'll see what we can do.”

 

* * *

  
Masaki Tenchi never felt the garb of the Jurai royal family suited him, despite what compliments Ayeka gave him.  During his brief stay on the throne-world after Kagato's defeat, the young prince was given some formal wear not only due to his status, but also as thanks for his part in ousting the coup d'etat.  The floral motifs of the embroidery, particularly the golden inlay on the right shoulder, gave a grand and regal appearance.  
  
_Not that I'm 'grand' or 'regal'_ , Tenchi thought as he donned the tunic once more.  
  
While he did have full range of motion in the clothes, the dark blue robes and short orange cape seemed very stiff and restricting when compared to his usual attire.  
  
_I've never really broken them in_ , Tenchi added as he snapped the cloak over his shoulder.  
  
He remembered the last time he wore this costume, over a year ago, when Ayeka had made her final request for him to ascend the throne by her side.  Since that time, these clothes have resided in the back of his closet, nearly forgotten.  Mostly, he no longer had a reason to wear them, not for class and certainly not for practicing the sword.  Also, he had few pleasant memories from this wardrobe.  
  
Now fully dressed in his Juraian attire, the young prince stared back at his reflection in a nearby mirror.  Kiyone had said that the Men in Black routinely wiped the minds of any Terrans involved with extraterrestrial events.  Since Tenchi had alien heritage, their memory-altering technology might not affect him at all.  Regardless, if he played the role of a Juraian prince, the issue might be avoided completely.  
  
However, wardrobe would be only part of the ruse.  To fool the Men in Black, Tenchi might have to speak a phrase or two in Cerulian, the common tongue of the Galactic Union.  He had discovered when he had first met Ryoko that Cerulian and Japanese were very similar, though he had learned a few quirks unique to Cerulian during the journey to Jurai.  With some coaching from Kiyone and Sasami, he should convince anyone with whom he must speak that he was Juraian.  In the worst case, he had had English classes in high school.  
  
_At least_ , he thought, _I should be able to understand some of what they're saying._  
  
After one more glance into the mirror, Tenchi turned to the pressurized door and exited the room.  Aboard the patrol-ship _Yagami_ , he quickly made his way to the cockpit, knowing well his way through the sepia-toned corridors.  Once there, he was greeted by the remainder of his party, who had been waiting for him.  Kiyone and Mihoshi were seated at their respective consoles, several translucent panels and gauges floating around them.  Sasami stood near the green-haired detective, quietly watching her work, though the nine-year-old's mind was more concerned with the fate of her sister.  Like Tenchi, the little princess was dressed in the regalia of her home-world:  a decoratively embroidered kimono, a stiff capelet around her shoulders, more ornate ties for her lengthy pigtails.  
  
Looking up from her screens, Kiyone told the prince, “We'll enter their airspace soon.”  
  
“Won't the people in the city notice us?” the young man asked, noticing the landmasses on the displays.  
  
“Nope,” Mihoshi chimed.  “The Men in Black have an unused airport hangar near a prison island.  They keep a close lid on everything in there.”  
  
“They also employ some spoofing systems to conceal surface-to-space traffic from most Terran detection methods,” her partner added.  “We've landed at their hangar a couple times after we first took this post, and we weren't noticed by the population.”  
  
Concerned, Sasami leaned against Kiyone's chair and quietly said, “I hope we find them there.”  
  
The blond detective smiled warmly and replied, “I'm sure they'll be right there waiting for us.  Ayeka and Washu probably already talked everything out for us.”  
  
Tenchi nodded and added, “Yeah, don't worry, Sasami.  We'll straighten everything out.”  
  
While their words seemed to lift the girl's spirits, the prince traded gazes with the green-haired detective.  They both still realized that Ryoko's history as a pirate would not be so easily swept away by words.  Kiyone herself had also checked reports recently filed with the Galaxy Police, none of which mentioned Ayeka, Washu, or even Ryoko.  The lack of information appeared unusual, particularly if the Men in Black had them in custody.  
  
Before she could ponder this matter further, an alert tone sounded from the console to her left.  The surface was hailing them, expecting identification and purpose.  Motioning to the others, she silenced them before taking a calming breath herself.  With a touch on the screen beneath the alert, a translucent pane materialized and displayed the face of the caller, an agent for the Men in Black.  
  
“Patrol-ship _Yagami_ ,” the agent began in English, “this is MiB LaGuardia.  State your destination and intent.”  
  
“MiB LaGuardia,” Kiyone responded, her English a bit uneven, “we request permission to land.  We are escorting Juraian dignitaries with concerns for MiB.”  
  
“ _Juraian_ dignitaries?”  The quirk of his brow and emphasis in his voice registered with both Tenchi and Kiyone.  The agent then asked, “Who are these dignitaries?”  
  
“Prince Masaki Tenchi and Princess Jurai Sasami,” the detective answered, motioning to the two regally dressed people at her side.  “They are investigating the whereabouts of Princess Sasami's sister, Princess Ayeka.”  
  
Unmistakably, the agent's eyes widened at Ayeka's name, clearly demonstrating not only that he had heard her name in recent memory, but also that he had not expected it in this context.  
  
“Just one second, _Yagami_ ,” the agent said before he muted his transmission.  
  
While Sasami and Mihoshi likely missed the subtlety, Tenchi and Kiyone caught the surprise and agitation in the other party's tone and expression.  The prince glanced to the detective, who returned a worried look.  Usually, a ship would be queued amongst arrivals and departures, not unlike the routine at a terrestrial border crossing or a Juraian border checkpoint.  His reaction, however, indicated that matters had already escalated.  
  
The agent left his seat for a few moments, but soon returned to announce, “ _Yagami_ , we'll have you land immediately.  Zed will want to meet with your dignitaries.  Give us a moment to clear the strip for you.”  
  
“Okay,” Kiyone acknowledged.  “Give us an approach vector when you're ready.”  
  
Needless to say, suspicions already began to brew between Tenchi and Kiyone.  
  
_Yagami_ itself was a typical design for a GP patrol-ship, elongated with a pronounced prow, weapon arrays on either side of the fuselage.  Notably, its hull wore a coat of red paint, distinguishing it from most of its gray-colored sister ships.  The vessel's underside fin cut through the clouds as it descended over Riker's Island and the East River.  Despite being the size of two residences, the craft went unnoticed by terrestrial radar, partially due to its trajectory avoiding most line-of-sight systems.  Lesser systems were fooled by a sequence of radio pulses bounced off of _Yagami_ 's hull by the MiB personnel stationed at LaGuardia, effectively canceling any incoming radar signals.  As to any eye-witnesses, most of them were on Riker's Island, which was used as a prison complex.  Thus, MiB agents in the facility could control and silence any loose lips, or could easily denounce the claims as ravings from the inmates.  Any others were handled on a case-by-case basis when discovered.  
  
_Yagami_ approached a seemingly derelict hangar on the LaGuardia Airport campus, the farthest from the actively used airstrips.  The ship carefully neared the deck of the tarmac as it slowed and came to rest within the confines of the hangar.  There, the vessel was guided to a dock, where mooring clamps attached to specified points on the craft's sides.  With the vehicle secured, an iris-like door on _Yagami_ 's hull opened, allowing a tube to extend, bridging the gap between the ship and the dock.  
  
The ship's occupants exited the tube, where they were met by a small group of MiB personnel.  Following standard procedure, agents lead their guests through a mundane-looking checkpoint, where all four emptied their pockets and were scanned.  Naturally, the GP officers briefly relinquished their sidearms, and Sasami passed without issue.  
  
However, the staff members could not recognize a particular item carried by Tenchi.  Like Ayeka's tiara, this device appeared woven from the branches of an elegant softwood tree.  One end ended in a relief of a flower's bud while the other was capped with some amethyst-like material.  Overall, the design resembled a sword's hilt, which gave the MiB staffers pause.  Thankfully, with the lack of a blade and all scans showing no apparent internal structure, Kiyone was able to argue that the item was merely a keepsake from his grandfather.  
  
During the exchange, Tenchi silently agreed with the green-haired detective, lest the personnel uncover that the item was actually his namesake, Tenchiken, the sword used to kill the usurper on Jurai.  Fortunately, the sword only functioned in the hands of a lineal descendant of the Jurai royal family.  
  
Afterward, the four were chauffeured to the main MiB facility under Battery Park, whereupon they were escorted to Zed's office overlooking the main hall below.  
  
“Welcome, everyone,” the chief agent welcomed them in English.  “Please have a seat.”  
  
“Thank you, Zed,” Kiyone answered as she sat across from him.  Tenchi and Mihoshi claimed seats on either side of her while Sasami kept close to the young prince.  The green-haired detective added, “I apologize for the suddenness of our visit.”  
  
“No,” he replied, glancing to Tenchi and Sasami, “I expected to hear something soon enough.”  Bowing his head to the prince, he continued, “I presume you are Prince Masaki Tenchi.”  
  
Without hesitation, the reluctant nobleman answered, his pronunciation notably more stilted than Kiyone's, “Yes, we are looking for Ayeka.”  
  
Zed raised a brow at this Juraian prince speaking English, despite his stilted delivery.  “I had no idea you had learned to speak English, your highness.”  
  
Tenchi's mouth immediately grew dry.  He had forgotten to let Kiyone interpret for him, if only for show.  From the corner of his eye, he could see her uneasily peering back at him, likewise caught off-guard by his response.  With a grimace, sweat starting to bead on his skin, Tenchi raised his hand, his finger and thumb fairly close together.  
  
“Only a little,” he added, “thanks to Kiyone.  Should we talk in the common language?”  
  
For a moment, Zed considered the suggestion, watching Tenchi quite carefully:  his bearing, his gestures, his expressions.  The chief agent had met with many ambassadors in his time, some of them from noble houses, and the young man did not fit in the usual mold.  He spoke English, a language only really used on Earth, which most ambassadors would not take the time to learn.  He was notably apprehensive, despite being from a major power in the galaxy.  His motions did not seem refined or practiced, as one might expect a public figure like a prince to be.  
  
“Sure,” the chief answered in Cerulian, “we can speak in the common language.”  
  
However, as Tenchi and Kiyone both breathed a subtle sigh of relief, Zed then spoke a question in a third language that the prince did not recognize.  With Tenchi blinking dumbly, the MiB leader repeated his words, his eyes squarely on the Juraian-blooded Terran.  Hearing it a second time, the reluctant nobleman began to recognize the phrase as something he has occasionally heard from Ayeka, though not in normal conversation.  
  
The prince turned to Kiyone, who was now very tense.  She knew the words but did not know a way to signal Tenchi on their meaning.  From her point of view, the ruse would be undone in mere moments.  Similarly, Mihoshi was at a loss to help since she did not recognize the words at all.  
  
On the other hand, Sasami's eyes lit up.  
  
_That's High Juraian!_ she realized.  _But, why would a “Man in Black” ask Tenchi to speak High Juraian?_  
  
Regardless, she tugged on Tenchi's sleeve.  As he leaned to her, she whispered Japanese into his ear, “Say this.”  
  
She then recited to him, “No, let's use Cerulian,” in High Juraian.  Following instructions, he spoke the words as she had dictated them, not really knowing what she had said.  Thinking quickly, he added in Cerulian, “Would it be okay if Mihoshi took Sasami to the restroom?  She really needs to go.”  
  
Playing to Tenchi's cover story, Sasami nodded.  “Yeah,” she said with a very pouty face, “it was a really long trip.”  
  
Skeptical, Zed glanced from one to the other.  He doubted that what Sasami whispered into Tenchi's ear was a request for the restroom, just as he had his doubts that the young man was a prince.  However, he would rather act when he knew for certain, lest he insult a delegate from another world.  
  
“Yes, of course,” he answered, committing to Cerulian at last.  “Mihoshi, you remember where the lady's room is?”  
  
“Of course!” she chimed as she snapped to her feet.  “Come on, Sasami.”  
  
The little princess joined the blond detective, but she cast one more worried glance at Tenchi on the way out of the office.  
  
“So, you are here to find Princess Ayeka?” Zed reiterated.  “Then, I have bad news.  Not only do we not know where she is, but she is suspected to be involved in two recent murders here in Manhattan.”  
  
Shock rippled through both Tenchi and Kiyone.  They had expected Ryoko to be sought for her previous piratical pursuits, but neither of them could fathom such an accusation for Ayeka.  Tenchi had regularly accompanied the princess since her arrival on Earth and had seen her personality in most situations.  Usually, she was quiet and diplomatic, though she did have a notable temper, particularly regarding Ryoko and the pirate's affection for the young prince.  The two naturally fought, but those bursts of anger never lead to serious injury.  
  
And, Tenchi had seen Ayeka with the will to kill only once, when she had tried to save him from Kagato on Jurai.  
  
“That can't be!” the prince argued.  “Ayeka is not normally a violent person!”  
  
“I agree,” Kiyone added.  “Ayeka might have her childish moments, but I find it very unlikely that she would kill someone intentionally.”  
  
“Admittedly,” Zed conceded, “one case is purely coincidental.  She and two others crashed into the bay a couple nights ago, not long after the murder of an Arquillian prince.”  
  
“That explains the Arquillian battle cruiser that was in orbit,” the teal-haired detective commented.  “One of the others with Princess Ayeka was Dr. Hakubi Washu, who had contacted Mihoshi and myself about that very craft.”  
  
“Really?” Zed mused, interested.  
  
“Yes, Mihoshi and I received a transmission from Washu on 5 July describing an Arquillian warship.  She had intercepted a communique from the vessel, demanding 'the Galaxy' from MiB.  Considering the threat in the demand, the two of them were understandably concerned for their safety, as well as that of the planet at large.”  
  
“So, they hitched a ride with a Ryoan pirate to confront the ship?” the chief queried.  
  
“Mihoshi and I were off-world at the time, so we couldn't exactly stop them.  I have the communication log of our contact with Washu if you want proof.”  
  
“I would like to see those logs, when you get a chance,” Zed accepted.  “Unfortunately, there is another matter.”  He handed Kiyone the file on last night's incident and continued, “She has been implicated personally in the murder of one of my agents last night.”  
  
The GP detective began to skim through the documents and pictures in the file:  Ryoko's escape, Ar's intercept with her, the evidence at the scene.  
  
“We apprehended the space pirate Ryua Ryoko and her downed battleship _Ryo-Ohki_ after the crash in the bay,” Chief Z explained.  “Last night, Ryoko broke free from our holding facility and tried to escape into the city.  Agents R and L intercepted her in Union Square Park, where Ar was later found dead, surrounded by signs of a firefight.  Traces of Juraian and Ryoan energy were detected on his body.”  
  
“Juraian _and_ Ryoan?” Tenchi asked.  “As in _both_ Ryoko _and_ Ayeka?”  
  
“Yes,” Zed corroborated, “and since there aren't that many Juraian nobles or Ryoan pirates on this planet, there aren't that many suspects.”  
  
“But, that makes no sense,” the prince argued.  “Why would they want to kill your man?”  
  
“While we don't yet have a motive for Ayeka, Ryoko's motive seems very obvious.  She wanted to get away, and she has certainly harmed plenty of people in her career already.  Many of her peers in the Ryoan pirate guilds are known for being merciless killers.”  
  
“That doesn't mean that _Ryoko_ is a killer,” Tenchi retorted, “or that Ayeka is either.”  
  
“Point taken, prince,” Zed admitted, “but the facts remain.”  The old man then wedded his fingers and leaned forward on his desk, interested as he then noted, “For a Juraian prince, you really seem interested in the fate of a Ryoan pirate.”  
  
“What does that have to do with anything?”  
  
“I have been wondering how a Juraian princess could possibly become involved with a Ryoan pirate,” the chief mused.  “They come from completely different backgrounds, hell completely different worlds.  While Ryua is part of the Jurai Empire, I doubt that alone overcomes the class gap between a criminal and royalty.”  Motioning to Tenchi, he added, “Now, I have a Juraian prince sitting before me, worried about a pirate just as much as his fellow noble.”  
  
The Terran-blooded prince opened his mouth to retort, but stopped himself when he saw the subtle grin on Zed's lips.  
  
_Wait.  Why is he smiling?_ Tenchi asked himself.  
  
Thinking about what had been said, Tenchi began to realize that in his fervor to refute the claim of Ryoko being a murderer, he had eroded his facade of a Juraian nobleman.  If the earlier linguistic error had made Zed suspicious, this new social class faux pas would only cement that dubiosity.  
  
The chief's eyes focused pointedly at Tenchi.  “Just what is your relationship to Ryoko, or to Ayeka for that matter?”  
  
_Dammit!_ the young man cursed at himself.  
  
“Wait a moment,” Kiyone interjected.  
  
As Tenchi and Zed turned to her, she removed the page from the case file regarding the detection of NVO energy at the scene.  She slapped it onto the desk and spun it to face the MiB chief.  
  
“What is _this_?” Kiyone incredulously inquired.  “NVO energy, _Kain's_ energy, was detected at the scene alongside Juraian and Ryoan.  How can that be?”  
  
“We don't know,” Zed stated, “but it was there.  Nevertheless, none of it was detected on Ar's body.  It was not the cause of his death.”  
  
“Still,” Kiyone contested, “this implies another party to the murder, someone who clearly cannot be Ryoko or Ayeka, and is probably far more dangerous than both of them.”  
  
“All the more reason to retrieve them both and sort this matter out,” he contested as his eyes turned to Tenchi.  “Maybe then, everything will come to light.”  
  
The prince could feel the piercing gaze of the chief on him, burning away the facade he had been carrying.  The veteran agent had spent decades concealing and uncovering alien encounters, so the ruse of Tenchi as a Juraian nobleman would not last much longer.  Thankfully for the teenager, another matter would shortly take precedent.  
  
To Tenchi's right, a tone sounded and drew the attention of all three occupants of the office.  Beside the prince rested a small monitor that sprung to life, showing one of the squid-like aliens operating the Egg Display below in the main hall.  
  
“I'm in a meeting, Bob,” Zed said.  “Can't this wait?”  
  
Bob answered with a series of seemingly unintelligible pops and clicks, which the chief understood, having worked with the being for some time.  
  
“Frank the Pug?  He can wait.”  
  
The mollusk animatedly waved his arms as he added more gibberish that took Zed aback.  
  
“Does he now?  Okay, put him through.”  
  
The monitor winked blank for a moment before displaying an image of Frank surrounded by the skyscrapers of New York City.  
  
“Alright, Frank,” Zed began, “you know something about the princess and the pirate?”  
  
“I've been _stuck_ with them for about a day, Zeddie,” the pug answered before he adjusted the line-of-sight for his communicator.  In so doing, Washu came into frame and waved to everyone.  
  
“Hi,” she greeted them.  “Missed me, Tenchi?”  
  
“Washu?” the prince blurted out.  “Are you okay?  Are Ryoko and Ayeka with you?”  
  
“Oh, we're fine,” the genius replied, “or at least as fine as we can be.”  Her green feline eyes slid to Zed as she added, “Also, Agent L is just fine too.  She was mildly concussed after firing off a high-powered energy weapon her partner brought with him, a 'Noisy Cricket', if I'm not mistaken.”  
  
The chief nodded.  “That's good to hear.  Can I speak with her?”  
  
“Oh, sure.”  
  
Again, the camera adjusted until Elle joined Washu and Frank in the monitor's viewport.  
  
“I'm here, chief,” the former mortician stated.  “We have a colossal misunderstanding here.”  
  
“I'd say,” her employer concurred.  “Where are you?”  
  
“I can't say.”  
  
“Why not?” Zed asked, his eyes glancing to Washu.  
  
“Frankly,” Elle answered, “because Ryoko doesn't want to be incarcerated again.  Ayeka and Washu want to come with Frank and me to headquarters and sort this out.”  
  
“That would be a good start, I think.”  
  
Tenchi noted the pleased glint to Zed's eye and spun back to the monitor, exclaiming, “No, Washu!  They think that Ryoko and Ayeka _murdered_ Elle's partner!  They'll _arrest_ them both!”  
  
Elle shook her head and retorted, “That's not what happened, chief.  Ar was killed by a type of bug, which Ryoko and Ayeka fought against.  They are not the culprits here.”  
  
“That's right, Zed,” Frank concurred.  “I saw it blow Ar's head off before it went right after the Ryoan babe.”  
  
“But,” the genius interjected, “I can see why the MiB would be confused.”  She focused on Zed and continued, “This bug has the capability to generate not only Juraian and Ryoan energy, but NVO energy as well.  Without scanning the creature myself, I could see the natural conclusion you would draw.”  
  
Hearing these claims, Zed asked, “Do you have proof of that, Dr. Hakubi?”  
  
“Of course,” she declared with certainty.  
  
With a wave of her hand, she summoned her phantom laptop and set to entering commands.  Within moments, the screen in Zed's office winked off and was replaced with video of Ryoko and Ayeka fighting the disguised Illirg.  The bug's carapace and mandibles became clearly seen after the pirate blew away the decaying flesh from his face.  The creature's own ruby sword clashed with Ryoko's, nearly mirroring its shape and ferocity.  
  
Zed watched the moving images with interest:  how the creature moved, how it mimicked Ryoko's powers, how it tore through Ayeka's barriers.  His trained eyes searched for any sort of tampering or doctoring of the clip, but he saw no such signs.  The video explained at once what happened last night, and revealed the true villain of this scenario.  
  
Tenchi's fingers clenched the arms of his chair.  While his faith in his friends had been confirmed, they had also been in danger this entire time.  Watching Ryoko and Ayeka struggled against the massive insect, he wanted to act, to reach them and bring them safely home.  
  
Likewise, Kiyone's suspicions were confirmed.  A third party to the murder did exist, but one far surpassing her expectations.  Not only did it use NVO energy, but it could utilize Juraian and Ryoan energy interchangeably.  Combined with a bug's innate strength, these powers would make it formidably dangerous.  
  
“Where is the creature now?” the detective asked.  
  
The monitor winked back to the image of Washu, Elle, and Frank, before the minute researcher replied, “We don't know.  The Noisy Cricket blast that concussed Elle also sent the bug flying into the distance.  Considering we were already running from the MiB, we decided to take our leave.”  
  
“Then, here's what we do,” Zed declared.  “As I said before, we need to retrieve the party with Elle, though as witnesses rather than suspects.  Afterward, identifying and neutralizing the bug should be the priority.”  
  
“What about Ryoko?” Tenchi inquired.  
  
“I'm sorry, sport,” the chief answered, “but she is still a space pirate.  She will be held accountable for those crimes.”  
  
“But, the bug is targeting _her_ , isn't it?” the prince argued.  “Your friend Frank said as much, and the video we just saw showed it chasing her specifically.  She's a victim here as much as anyone.”  
  
“Point taken, but that doesn't change who she is.”  Turning to Elle's image again, Zed stated, “With the bug at large, I will send a unit to pick up your group and bring them here.  Where are you?”  
  
The former mortician lowered her conflicted eyes.  She knew well that Ryoko was not the enemy, but at the same time, she was now convinced that more people would be needed to combat Illirg.  Staying separated from MiB as they were would not likely end well when Illirg returned.  
  
“I'm sorry,” she whispered to Washu before facing Zed.  “We're at the Gramercy Park Hotel on Lexington.”  
  
“Agents will be there within the hour,” Zed replied.  “Just stay where you are.”  
  
As the transmission ended, Tenchi stood and barked at Zed, “You don't even care, do you?”  
  
The MiB chief glanced up at him and calmly spoke in the Okayama dialect of Japanese, “You have ten minutes to hail a cab, 'prince'.”  
  
Stunned, Tenchi realized that in his heated emotional state, his words had slipped from Cerulian into his native Japanese some time ago.  Zed's knowing eyes met his, the regal ruse now a complete failure.  
  
“After that,” the agent continued, “I make no promises for your space pirate.”  
  
Caught, Tenchi glowered before Kiyone rested a hand on his shoulder and drew his attention to her.  
  
“This is an opportunity, Tenchi,” she said hopefully.  “Let's not waste it.”  
  
With a heavy breath, he nodded to her before leaving one last angry glare at Zed.  Together, the two rushed out of the office, aiming to beat the MiB unit to Gramercy Park.  
  
Elsewhere, Illirg's mandibles twisted into a grotesque smile as he set down an MiB communicator.  His talons raised a black-suited corpse as he readied to make his own scheme a reality in the next few minutes.

 

* * *

  
“Why the hell would you do that?!” Ryoko demanded.  
  
“I did what I thought was best,” Elle retorted.  
  
In the lobby of the Gramercy Park Hotel, the space pirate stood with Ayeka at her side and Ryo-Ohki on her shoulder.  Before her was the good doctor, flanked by Washu and Frank, who had returned from contacting Zed at MiB headquarters.  
  
“The plan was that you guys all head to their headquarters and sort this mess out,” the cyan-maned fury argued.  “There wasn't anything in the deal about them coming _here_!”  
  
“You really want us to slog over to Battery Park with this monster loose?” the raven-haired agent rebuked.  “You might relish the idea of it going after _you_ , but I'm not fond of it chasing _me_ to get to you!”  
  
“The plan hasn't really changed, Ryoko,” Ayeka interjected.  “The agents will come here and escort the the four of us to their headquarters, while you and Ryo-Ohki avoid being seen.”  
  
“Originally, the agents weren't going to be _looking_ for us to be here,” Ryoko countered.  “What do we do, Ayeka, if they do see me and Ryo-Ohki?  This is the _same_ kind of scheme that nearly got us caught at that Juraian border station.  If the station's commander hadn't been your uncle…!”  
  
Offended, the princess folded her arms and barked back, “If you weren't a _space pirate_ …!”  
  
“That's enough!” Washu yelled at all three of them.  “We can't undo what's been done.”  She turned to Ryoko and added, “And, arguing about it leaves less time for you to make a quick exit, Ryoko.”  
  
Though anger had hardened Ryoko's heart, her mind still registered the minute scientist's cue.  Seconds were ticking away, bringing the agents closer to her location, closer to caging her again.  
  
Her amber eyes met Elle's as the pirate coldly said, “Yeah.  A _quick_ exit.”  
  
Ryoko's gaze followed the novice agent as the Ryoan woman walked up to and then through a nearby wall.  Like a seething specter, the ghostly way she vanished through the solid object only chilled Elle to witness, those yellow eyes lingering for a moment before phasing away.  
  
“It's not like I _want_ her arrested again,” the former mortician commented.  
  
“You're definitely a newbie then,” Frank commented.  “Most MiB wouldn't have hesitated.”  
  
“She's not the real problem, but it's not like I have the equipment to take out this bug alone.  Even that 'Tenchi' with Zed spoke up for her.”  
  
“Tenchi?” the princess asked, her ruby eyes brightening at his name.  “Lord Tenchi is here?”  
  
“It was Tenchi, alright,” Washu confirmed, “and Kiyone was with him, probably looking for us.”  
  
Elle nodded and added, “He was very worried about the two of you.”  
  
The regal-tressed woman glanced to the side.  “ _Both_ of us?”  
  
“He was very adamant that the two of you had nothing to do with Ar's murder,” the good doctor continued, “but also argued vehemently with Zed about arresting Ryoko.”  
  
The Juraian's heart sank a bit, a spark of jealousy shooting through her mind.  Her eyes narrowed as she remarked, “He is too kind for his own good at times.”  
  
“What is it between you two anyway?” Elle inquired.  “You're a princess.  She's a pirate, and I take it he's a prince?”  
  
“It's… complicated.”  
  
Across the room, the lobby's door opened and allowed a black-suited man to enter the building.  Wearing the dark sunglasses of the Men in Black, the bald man stiffly scanned the room before sighting Elle and her party.  Slowly, he approached them, walking very methodically and catching the attention of both Washu and Frank.  
  
The genius motioned to the physician.  “Looks like our ride has arrived.”  
  
“Looks like,” Elle answered as she extended her hand to the recent entrant.  “Agent L,” she introduced herself.  
  
The man glared coldly at her as he scanned over the party again.  His gravelly bass voice droned back to her, “Where is the Ryoan pirate?”  
  
“She took off,” she said honestly before waving toward Ayeka and Washu, “but Zed wants them safely back at headquarters.”  
  
“I have no interest in them,” the man retorted as he rigidly turned away from her.  “Where is the pirate?”  
  
Insulted, Elle scowled at the agent and rebuked him, “I might have only worn the suit for a couple days, but I know what the boss said.  He wants these two escorted to safety.”  
  
As the agent icily ignored her, Frank watched him closely, how the man moved so rigidly.  Also, the man was alone, begging the question about his partner's whereabouts.  Moreover, he seemed so focused on Ryoko, notably ignoring the royal dignitary.  
  
_And_ , the pug thought, _he shouldn't be here after only 10 minutes._  
  
Likewise, Washu caught the same signs, as well as a distinct pallor to the man's flesh.  Taking a step back, she whispered to Frank, “That common behavior for MiB agents?”  
  
“He's not an agent,” the informant answered, motioning toward the princess.  
  
Before either could alert Ayeka, Elle grabbed the unnamed agent's shoulder and demanded, “Hey!  I said that Ryoko's not…!”  
  
The man swung back to her and wrapped his hand around her throat, lifting her off of the floor.  The physician grasped at his hand, her nails digging into the thin veil of flesh, revealing the green carapace of her insectoid foe.  Her eyes widened with the realization of the faux agent's identity, Illirg in a new flesh suit.  
  
“Enough of your prattle,” he hissed, his mandibles rattling just inside the skin's mouth.  
  
“Release her, creature!” Ayeka ordered, her mini-guardians chiming into existence around Illirg.  
  
He sneered back at the princess.  “Give me the Ryoan pirate, and I will return her.”  
  
A whoosh of air sounded behind Illirg when a ruby energy blade plunged down through his back and out his belly, deftly missing Elle.  His grip on her throat loosened, letting her drop to her feet and quickly join those with Ayeka.  Turning back, she saw Ryoko hovering just behind Illirg, her ethereal sword thrust through the faux agent's body.  
  
“You called?” the Ryoan rogue whispered to her adversary.  
  
With Elle clear, Ryoko and her weapon vanished, leaving a hole punched through his gut.  On cue, Ayeka raised her hand toward the concealed monster, and her mini-guardians ignited with her Juraian energies, shocking and irradiating the fiend.  Beneath his stolen meat, a deep purple glow arose as he created a black barrier around himself, much like he did before.  Seeing the shield, the princess gritted her teeth and intensified her assault, summoning more of her power, the bolts around Illirg growing more powerful and more wild.  
  
Yet, she did not penetrate his barrier, despite the energy she sent forth.  Watching her power grow wild, a fear entered her eyes as she restrained herself, her heart pounding heavily in her chest.  
  
Around them, the management and guests to the hotel began to scream and escape the scene, calling authorities or gawking at the light show.  Many of these calls were intercepted by the MiB, which set immediately to mitigating the coming fallout.  In particular, the details were forwarded to Jay and Mitsuki, who were already on their way to the hotel.  The MiB agent cursed as he slammed his foot on the accelerator, weaving through traffic, still minutes away.  
  
Illirg's eyes glared angrily at Ayeka as he held his wound, not mortal due to his folded insectoid physiology.  At the Juraian's side, Ryoko reappeared and held her palms aloft together, charging a large mass of her scarlet power, which quickly took a fierce bullet-like shape.  Ayeka silenced and recalled her mini-guardians while her cyan-maned ally loosed her shot at the monster, who waited for it to come.  
  
He stepped aside, letting the shot pass as his barrier vanished.  
  
Taken aback, the pirate and the princess glanced at each other before the creature manifested an orb of black light and launched it directly at the noblewoman.  Quickly, she generated a force field through her mini-guardians, but the dark energy smashed into her shield, cracking it, knocking her back against the lobby's hospitality desk.  Ryoko called to her compatriot, but before she could act or receive an answer, the creature was upon her, its exposed carapace glowing red, holding his own copy of her sword.  Reacting, she teleported behind the fiend and molded her sword anew, thrusting at his back again.  
  
However, as the carapace glowed this crimson color, the blade would not penetrate.  
  
“Not this time, bitch,” he snarled as he whirled toward her, his sword swiping at her.  
  
Ryoko's blade clashed against Illirg's, sparks flying from the exchanged strikes.  Each swing from Illirg grew stronger, impacting Ryoko's sword harder each time, nearly snapping the young woman's arm after five hits.  However, his arm became sluggish, and she wilily evaded the following strokes.  She retaliated with fast and precise swipes at his extremities, but these wounds were only superficial, only cutting the fleshy disguise and not his true armored body.  
  
Meanwhile, Elle rushed to Ayeka's side, checking her for injury, while Washu and Frank ducked behind the hospitality desk.  As the physician helped the Juraian woman to her feet, the researcher was observing and recording the battle before them.  Though Illirg could mimic Ryoko's sword and ability to fly, he did not teleport or phase as she did.  Likewise, he mimicked Ayeka's barrier, although using NVO energy rather than Juraian, but did not seem to manifest her mini-guardians.  Moreover, he mimicked Kain's claws, but not his higher abilities.  
  
_What's limiting him?_ she wondered.  
  
Illirg roared in frustration as his skin suit became increasingly more tattered.  He threw his blade at Ryoko, forcing her to roll to the side.  His carapace shone a brilliant emerald, switching from the ruby Ryoan energy to the green of Juraian.  Viridian talons extended from his fingertips as he swung at the lady pirate, clashing with her sword.  For a moment, sparks flew from the contact of his ethereal claws with her energy edge.  
  
Then, her sword shattered as his free hand thrust forward, grabbed her throat, and slammed her to the ground.  
  
“Now, hold still,” he commanded, his carapace shifting back to a deep purple.  The stolen skin ripped away from the chitinous plates on his arm as it burned black once again.  “This little game ends.”  
  
Ryoko struggled against his strength and weight bearing down upon her, the black flames rolling down his arm, seeking to shroud her in darkness.  As the onyx fire touched her neck, the pirate began to hear a distant voice whispering into her mind, almost inaudible at first.  Staring up at the sagging flesh of Illirg's skin suit, fear crept into her soul as the voice began to grow louder.  Then, she heard a single full word in her mind, and shivers shot through her spine when she placed the woman's voice.  
  
_Daughter._  
  
Then, two powerful blasts impacted Illirg's back and rent him from his feet, casting him across the room, away from his prey.  The onyx fire remained connected to the bug's arm, flying with him as it peeled away from Ryoko's throat.  The unfamiliar vocalization left her mind as she pushed herself up to see her apparent rescuers.  
  
In the entrance stood Jay and Mitsuki, heated vapors wisping from each person's weapon barrel.  The fully trained MiB agent hefted his tri-barreled plasma cannon onto his shoulder while the GP liaison lowered her fusion bazooka.  
  
“Roaches be _huge_ in New York,” Jay quipped.  
  
“Jay?” Elle inquired, not expecting him to arrive.  
  
“Girl, you need to stop hanging around bugs,” he playfully chided her.  “A guy might get the wrong impression.”  
  
Flustered, she retorted, “Not the time, Jay!”  
  
“It's not finished!” Ayeka called out to them.  
  
Everyone followed her line-of-sight to see Illirg rise back to his feet, his skin suit sickeningly mangled, his green carapace and folded body clearly visible.  His exposed claws grasped the flayed skin and tore it away, splattering the remnants onto the ground as he unveiled his true form, a gigantic mantis.  Unpacking his segmented body, he towered easily twice Jay's height, supported by his four hind limbs while his two manipulative appendages flared, displaying his menacing talons.  Still, his right arm burned black with the flames that had begun to speak to Ryoko, this sentient blaze.  His compound eyes focused on Jay and Mitsuki as he roared, his mandibles open intimidatingly wide.  
  
Neither of the two arrivals hesitated as they leveled their weapons and fired again at Illirg.  While their blasts flew at him, his carapace glowed a bloody crimson as he summoned Ryoan energies.  The two energy bolts smashed into the mantis and, to his surprise, toppled the bug, slamming him through the back wall.  Confidently, Jay and Mitsuki began to advance when the monster's color changed to deep purple, NVO energy in use.  A dark sphere emerged around the insect as it marched back toward his opponents, the barrier burning into the floor and ceiling.  Again, Mitsuki and Jay fired upon him, but the shots ricocheted off the shield and ripped through the hotel's structure instead.  
  
Illirg's mandibles twisted into a grotesque sneer as he hissed, “Goddamn humans.”  
  
Toward Mitsuki and Jay, the beast raised his talons as he transferred his power from the shield into his hands.  However, Ayeka's mini-guardians surrounded him, turning his attention to the Juraian princess once again.  When he spun to face her, Ryoko appeared between them, sword in hand, cutting down across his face.  Injured, the beast recoiled away, swatting the Ryoan woman into her Juraian ally, and loosing his blasts into the hotel.  Mitsuki and Jay both dodged debris from the impacts while Ryoko and Ayeka landed hard next to the hospitality desk.  
  
As he reeled from the facial wound, Illirg heard the fiery entity in his mind demand, _Remember your purpose!  The Ryoan girl!_  
  
“I know!” the beast growled aloud as he swung back to Ryoko and Ayeka.  
  
The gargantuan mantis wiped his viscous blood from his face before raising his burning right arm toward the two young women.  The flames coalesced into an onyx orb in his palm, purging the entity from his body and into this ethereal projectile.  Ryoko and Ayeka had just returned to their feet when he launched the entity toward them, toward the space pirate herself.  
  
However, the princess's ruby eyes caught sight of the projectile and pushed her friend aside.  The kimono-clad woman raised her hands and willed a force barrier into existence around herself just before the entity contacted the barrier's surface.  The entity screamed and burned against the Juraian energy of her shield, but as before, her shield cracked, letting part of the black fire shoot into Ayeka's chest.  
  
For an instant, the Juraian noblewoman stood there stunned, feeling the wound, pain punching through her chest.  Then, the pain spread throughout her body, every fiber of her Juraian body reacting to this dark shot to her heart.  Only darkness followed when her senses became too overwhelmed to cope.  
  
While Ayeka's body fell lifelessly to the floor, Illirg stepped back, realizing that the “seed” had missed its intended target.  He examined his situation:  his skin suit destroyed, sirens in the distance, Ryoko returning to her feet, the GP and MiB operatives already barking their demands.  While he held firm against these four combatants, more foes would be difficult.  
  
_I need to regroup before more arrive_ , he reasoned, _and I should seek my queen's counsel._  
  
With that, his carapace turned scarlet with Ryoan energies as he flew upward and blasted through the ceiling.  He blew through subsequent floors until he reached the roof and rocketed away from the scene.  
  
As the dust of battle settled, Ryoko coughed and scanned her surroundings for her enemy.  However, her amber eyes fell on her rival's immobile body, attended by Washu and Elle.  The pirate's skin grew cold, her mind unable at first to process what she was seeing.  Her heart sank watching the two professionals spouting jargon to one another over her rival, her friend.  
  
Then, she saw Mitsuki and Jay walking toward her with their weapons aimed at her.  Her eyes glanced at Ayeka one last time while Mitsuki began ordering her to surrender.  Within the pirate's heart, her loyalty to her friends warred with her desire to be free, and in this instance, the latter won.  Ryoko faded away before either Mitsuki or Jay could reach her.  
  
This scene greeted Tenchi and Kiyone as they too arrived at the Gramercy Park Hotel, far too late to help.


	6. Cooperation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Following battle, everyone copes with Ayeka's fate. Ryoko readies herself for revenge, while Tenchi struggles with his inability to act. Meanwhile, Agents J and L are sent to locate an ally, Griffin the Archanan.

Amongst the metallic columns of his ship's grand corridors, the Great Liaens walked in thought, pondering his strategies for his central goal, his conquest of Jurai.  Stroking his lush beard, the regally dressed man ruminated on how to disable Jurai's defense perimeter, the use of a surgical insurgent, and perhaps some inside assistance.  His artificial irises narrowed, thinking about weaponry, personnel, and any temporary alliances that might be necessitated.  
  
Unfortunately, his thoughts were interrupted when he caught a motion at the edge of his vision.  Pausing, the imperial figure glanced at the annoyance, finding the detestable Kimitan witch lurking behind him.  He hardly disguised the curl to his lip at the sight of her.  
  
“I have little tolerance for your nonsense now, Jezibel,” Liaens spat at her.  
  
Broadly sweeping her jade cloak from herself, accentuating her sultry strides, the telepath leered back at him and retorted, “But, I'm sure I could loosen the burdens of that royal brow.”  
  
Disgusted, he sneered and rebuked her, “Take your shameless taunts elsewhere, whore.  Your meretricious fronts repulse me.”  
  
Halting before him, she folded her arms over her chest as her emerald eyes knowingly met his.  “I'm sure you wouldn't be so averse before…”  
  
She paused her speech as she lightly slid a finger along his shoulder and collar.  At her touch, a circuit-like pattern of lines manifested in his clothing, spreading from the point of contact in a small radius before fading back into the cloth.  
  
For a moment, Liaens did feel a modicum of desire, missing the touch of a woman, the warmth of another person.  The sensors embedded in his skin did what his flesh no longer could, telling his brain that she was touching him.  
  
But, he still felt numb, cold, dead.  
  
Then, he saw the sadistic gleam in her eyes, the twisted smile stretching across her venomous lips once again, mocking him.  While she could not read his mind or control him, she knew well his plight and only sought to torment him with it, as she did everyone else around her.  
  
Hatred burned in his heart, not just for Jezibel, but for the one who had made him this way and stole his moment of conquest:  the first patriarch of the Jurai royal family, the original king of Jurai.  Earthen-colored energies cascaded down his forearms and hands as his fingers curled into fists.  Though ripping the current Juraian monarch from throne would be more satisfying, the steel-eyed man could find some enjoyment in ridding this witch of her insufferable smirks.  
  
Fortunately for Jezibel, Liaens refrained.  _She is necessary_ , he told himself, _for now._  
  
“Do you have some purpose here, witch?”  
  
“Our bug has news,” the telepath explained.  “Are you in the mood for it?”  
  
One of his brows rose with his interest.  “Does he now?”  
  
“He can tell you himself.”  
  
“Very well,” the former monarch decided.  “Proceed.”  
  
At his behest, Jezibel drew a tablet from her cloak and quickly accessed the ship's communication system.  Within a few moments, Illirg's grotesque visage appeared on the screen before his two patrons.  
  
“My queen,” the insectoid assassin began, “I require your counsel.”  
  
Relishing the fictitious title, Jezibel smiled widely and proudly as she replied, “You may have it, servant.  Give your report.”  
  
“Royalty, the 'seed' has been lost.”  
  
The Kimitan witch had not expected this response.  As her disposition soured, she furrowed her brows and said, “Describe 'lost'.”  
  
“A few hours ago, I engaged in combat with the Ryoan girl and her companions, particularly the Juraian noble.  During the fight, I attempted twice to pass the 'seed' to the Ryoan, but the Terrans and the Juraian continually interfered.”  
  
Frustration flared in Jezibel's eyes, glowing with the emerald light of her mental powers.  “Get to the point, servant.  What happened to the 'seed'?”  
  
“Unfortunately,” he answered, his compound eyes glancing away, “my second attempt to pass the 'seed' to the Ryoan missed, sending the entity into the Juraian instead.”  
  
Losing their ominous glow, her eyes widened at this eventuality.  The 'seed', this shadowy entity, had been purposefully made with Ryoko in mind, both on the biological and ethereal levels.  No one had considered what would result from the entity's contact with a Juraian, let alone the former heir apparent, Jurai Ayeka.  
  
“The Juraian did collapse, my queen,” Illirg added, “so she should be dead, yes?  Was that not the plan for the Ryoan?  With one deceased, I should be able to handle the other.”  
  
However, Jezibel had stopped listening.  Her twisted thoughts were already churning with what would result from Ayeka's exposure to the entity.  
  
 _Would she die_ , the telepath questioned, _or would she…?_  
  
Before the Kimitan witch could continue her thought, Liaens sneered and barked, “He's been chasing a Ryoan pirate, rather than tending to his assignment?”  
  
Torn from her mental gymnastics, the fiery-haired woman defended, “This was a task given to me by our Lady, to whom you also pledged fealty.”  
  
The bearded man remembered well his words of allegiance, only after he awoke in this new age, only after his seat of power had been stripped from him, only after part of his very humanity had been lost to time.  The earthen-colored energies flared around his fist as the miniature motors aided his muscles in clenching his hand tight.  His pride would no longer remain silent.  
  
“An alliance for a _purpose_ , witch,” he corrected, “a means to an end, just like you.”  Motioning to Illirg's image, he continued, “He is a prototype, a mere weapon test, but you have him off-mission rather than proving his infiltration and combat ability.”  
  
“He has passed unnoticed on Earth and has faced a Ryoan and Juraian together in combat _twice_ now,” she retorted.  
  
“And, been beaten back _both times_ ,” he snarled back.  Looming over the vile telepath, the regally dressed man berated her, “If our Lady gave you this task, using her pet shadow to infect the Ryoan pirate with her influence, then you have clearly failed.  You have no more chances.”  
  
Liaens was correct, and Jezibel had no defense to his words.  Their patron, their “Lady”, had created three of these dark entities, siblings in a sense, each with different purposes and dispositions.  The original was destroyed on Earth nearly 27 years ago.  Two years ago, Jezibel and Liaens had used the third to procure their ward, Nerti Ro, from the Science Academy branch on Pentinon.  
  
And now, Illirg had lost the second, meant exclusively for Ryoko.  
  
 _Or, perhaps he had not_ , she thought, continuing to ponder the case of Ayeka.  _Perhaps we only require a change in plans._  
  
The grand man raised his hand to the nearby wall, where the panels slid aside and revealed a computer interface port.  The metal pins of the port popped out, jutting just above the plane of the wall.  Likewise, Liaens's palm mechanically opened and revealed the complementing connector, which he linked to the wall.  So connected, he had direct access to his ship's systems, ranging from weapons to communications.  
  
Glaring at Jezibel, he sternly stated, “If you can't, or _won't_ , instruct this genetic construct to fulfill his designed purpose, then I will send someone who will do it _for_ him.”  
  
The artificial link sparked and glowed as he issued his instruction to the ship, which awoke Illirg's replacement.  Elsewhere aboard the vessel, gun-metal gray eyes opened, burning a deep blood red as their owner's main operating system (OS) began to boot.  Strands of gold fell around a silvery face while memories loaded, reconstituting a personality dormant until reactivation.  For a moment, “III” flashed in those gray eyes, a twisted smirk crossing the human visage.  Holding brackets unscrewed from this figure's body, freeing a female form to step away in the darkened storage chamber.  
  
As Liaens decoupled his hand from the wall interface, Jezibel surmised, “You've awakened the gynoid, I take it?”  
  
“As I have said,” he answered hotly, “she has proven reliable.  Assassination should be an easy task given what she has already accomplished.”  
  
“And, what of the bug?”  
  
His cross-shaped pupils targeted the Kimitan telepath, his disdain for her overt in his answer.  “He has until she arrives to finish the mission.  If he has not by her arrival, she will part his head from his shoulders.”  
  
Snapping his cloak around his shoulders, the Great Liaens stormed away from the witch and made his way back to his chambers.  Jezibel, however, remained in the corridor for a moment, wondering about the Juraian princess, and the dark entity that Illirg mistakenly sent at her.  
  
The bug himself implored once more from the tablet in her hand, “What are your orders, my queen?”  
  
“Return to your original mission,” she instructed distantly, her mind elsewhere.  “Kill the Men in Black chief.”  
  
“Of course, royalty.”  
  
“And,” the scheming woman added, her piercing green eyes slyly meeting those of her minion, “retrieve the Juraian.  Alive, if possible.”

 

* * *

 

  
For hours throughout the night, chief agents Z and O listened to the stories told by their recent visitors.  Dr. Hakubi Washu explained how she had intercepted the Arquillian ultimatum three days previous, and enlisted Princess Jurai Ayeka and the pirate Ryua Ryoko to investigate it.  GP Detectives Makibi Kiyone and Kuramitsu Mihoshi attested to Washu's story, submitting their ship's communication records in addition to the minute researcher's own data.  
  
Frank the Pug corroborated that Washu and Ayeka had met with him to act as an intermediary with the Men in Black, as well as that Agent R acted recklessly.  Agent L reported her involvement:  witnessing Agent R's murder by this mantis-like creature, all she had learned from her uneasy allies, and the violent exchange within the Gramercy Park Hotel.  Agent J and GP liaison Matsu Mitsuki supported her claims about the battle at the hotel with their own testimony of the event.  
  
All these testimonies together with footage of the bug itself, either from Washu's recordings or incidental cameras in the hotel, effectively acquitted Ryoko and Ayeka of any involvement in both Rosenberg's assassination and Ar's murder.  
  
The chiefs then turned their attention to the GP resident officers and their Juraian “dignitaries”.  Washu, Kiyone, and Mihoshi substantiated the identity of this “Prince” Masaki Tenchi.  Records from the GP regarding the coup d'etat on Jurai and Washu's own genetic lineage tests demonstrated that Tenchi was indeed a prince of the Jurai royal family, grandson to another former heir apparent, Jurai Yosho.  Naturally, the identities of Ayeka and her sister Sasami were readily certified from their dossiers from the GP.  
  
Accordingly, Zed and Oh had questions as to why Tenchi spoke Japanese natively and seemed naive to the High Juraian dialect and the class differences in the Jurai Empire.  Tenchi himself wove a tale about his grandfather, how Yosho had left Jurai after denying the throne, how he came to settle quietly on Earth and start a family.  Washu, Kiyone, and Mihoshi testified to the fact that the young man had been completely unaware of his lineage until the coup d'etat on Jurai, when his grandfather revealed himself to aid Ayeka in ousting the usurper, Jurai Kagato.  Tenchi's own actions demonstrated that he was still more a young man from Okayama prefecture than a prince of Jurai.  
  
The realization that Tenchi was a hybrid between Terran and Juraian lineage did raise a couple questions.  As the result of an interspecies romance, he landed in a gray area in regards to the MiB policies regarding Earth's native population.  His Terran lineage and lack of MiB credentials should imply that he should be neuralized, extending back to his first knowing contact with extraterrestrials.  However, his royal Juraian lineage would imply that he should instead be regarded as a foreign dignitary, as he originally postured.  Moreover, the neuralizer's effect may be moot entirely, considering the device was designed to alter memory pathways for a Terran brain.  Tenchi, as a hybrid of two species, may have a brain structure different enough to render the neuralizer entirely useless on him.  Naturally, the issue of jurisdiction between the MiB and GP arose, Tenchi residing in Okayama but visiting Manhattan.  
  
While Zed focused on the policies and jurisdictions, Oh remained oddly silent and listened to the stories attentively.  A couple daggers needled her heart as she heard about an alien prince visiting Earth and falling in love with a Terran woman, about his grandson beset by the affections of two women from space.  While the British agent kept her stoic facade, she felt a spark of jealousy renew itself with memories of herself, Kay, and the Princess Lauranna of Zartha.  Admittedly, she felt some sympathy for Ryoko and Ayeka, though not enough to sway her adherence to the law and policy.  
  
Ultimately, Zed and Oh agreed to shelve the issue of Masaki Tenchi for later.  Other matters were far more pressing.  
  
Princess Ayeka laid motionless in the MiB's infirmary under the care of the veteran Agent H.  As Elle had attended the regal-tressed lady shortly after she fell, the former mortician had helped ascertain and stabilize the Juraian woman's condition.  Physically, Ayeka had suffered a few bruises from being knocked into the hotel's hospitality desk, which were now nearly gone with the advanced treatments of the MiB.  
  
Unfortunately, while the princess's condition was stable, it remained an uneasy equilibrium.  Since Juraians were very similar to Terrans, Elle readily recognized the symptoms exhibited by the former heir apparent:  fast but weak pulse, shallow breathing, low blood pressure, clammy skin.  Blood work confirmed Elle's diagnosis:  blood acidity rising, the onset of physiological shock.  However, no treatment administered by Elle or even the veteran Aitch could do more than slow Ayeka's degradation.  The princess had no allergen in her system, no massive injury to her vital organs, no bacterial or fungal infections.  All the usual medical explanations for her conditions were immediately eliminated.  
  
Thankfully, Washu had been beside Elle when Ayeka fell, and the genius scientist had far more methods at her disposal than the MiB.  While no physical allergen existed in the princess, the minute researcher found that her body had a significant charge of NVO energy, no doubt received from the bug's final attack on her.  As this dark energy was naturally antipodal to her innate Jurai heritage, the two warred within her, not unlike an infection fighting with antibodies.  At the moment, the battle had reached a stalemate, the Juraian power balancing with the NVO energy.  Sadly, enduring the stress of the conflict was deteriorating Ayeka's body.  
  
Their worst case scenario becoming reality, Zed and Oh sat with Washu and the members of the Galaxy Police to determine their course of action.  A sober gravity loomed over Mihoshi and Kiyone, knowing that their close friend's life hung a thread from collapsing.  
  
Teary-eyed, Mihoshi pleaded, “Isn't there anything you can do, Ms. Washu?”  
  
“The balance between the two energies inside Ayeka is very tenuous,” the redheaded Ryoan explained.  “In most scenarios, NVO energy and Jurai power pair-annihilate, releasing a tremendous force.  Tipping the balance might not just kill her, but also level this entire complex, or even tear spacetime.  Her condition must be handled extremely carefully.”  
  
“Might Tenchi or Sasami be able to help?” Kiyone asked.  
  
“Or Katsuhito,” the blonde officer added, “if we brought him from Okayama?”  
  
“No,” Washu answered with a thoughtful shake of her head, “this isn't like a blood transfusion or tissue transplant.”  
  
Already, her elite mind was cogitating on the matter at hand.  She recalled all the inquiries and analyses she had made in regard to Kagato the usurper and the “darkness of the universe”, as well as the lack of answers she found.  Beneath her cold and detached facade, Washu worried about Ayeka, wondering if the fear and desperation described by Kagato was befalling the violet-tressed princess.  Even if Tenchi or Sasami could synchronize their Juraian energies with Ayeka, neither was skilled enough for this delicate of an operation.  
  
_Worse yet_ , she speculated, _what if the condition could be transferred to Tenchi, Sasami, or Katsuhito?_  
  
“No,” she reiterated, “I need to study her condition first, as well as her attacker.”  
  
“What do we know about this bug?” Zed inquired.  “Where did he come from?  What's his goal?”  
  
“At the moment,” Washu answered, “we know very little about him.  In addition to the proportionate strength of a mantis, he can generate Juraian, Ryoan, and NVO energies.  Until I analyze some of the tissue samples taken from the battle site, I can't say much more about what he is.  As to his goal, he certainly seemed focused on Ryoko.”  
  
“Is he an old foe of Ryoko's?” Oh asked.  
  
“No,” Kiyone responded, “Ryoko's criminal record has no mention of contact with a bug until now.”  
  
“And, she's never mentioned one over sake or in the bath,” Mihoshi added.  
  
The teal-haired detective felt her temple throb as her blond partner stumbled into this unspoken and taboo issue, their complacence with Ryoko.  She could feel a burning stare from across the table, where Mitsuki sat with folded arms.  She could see the gleam in Zed's eyes, ready to pounce on the matter.  
  
“What exactly is your relationship with the space pirate Ryoko, Detective Kiyone?” he probed.  “I've never heard of a Galaxy Police officer being so friendly with a pirate before.”  
  
Mihoshi visibly winced as she realized her mistake and glanced apologetically to her partner.  With a calming breath, Kiyone settled herself and locked gazes with the chief of the Men in Black.  
  
“I can understand your confusion,” she answered carefully.  “Ryoko has been a wanted criminal for years, and by the letter of the law, she should be punished for her crimes.  However, on this planet, she has all but forsaken her career of piracy.  With few exceptions, she has not left Earth or broken the law.  Moreover, she was instrumental in two major operations with Mihoshi and myself, as well as the other residents of the Masaki estate.  For those reasons, we have let Ryoko remain free.”  
  
“One of those operations would be ousting the coup on Jurai, yes?”  
  
“Of course.”  
  
“I'm sure the skills and guile of a pirate helped keep your motley crew a step ahead throughout that entire affair, but she was rumored dead after the battle with Jurai's fleet.”  
  
“She hasn't shared what happened to her after leaving Jurai, and I haven't pried.”  
  
“You mentioned _two_ operations, detective,” Oh reiterated.  “What was the other?  Your report details her involvement in the coup, but none of your subsequent cases were hardly as major.”  
  
Kiyone's heart weighed heavily in her chest as her blue eyes shifted to Mitsuki's.  The two had been close friends in the academy, forming a trinity with Mihoshi prior to their graduation.  However, Mitsuki now glared spitefully at her, judging her.  The teal-tressed detective glanced to her old friend's metallic hand resting motionlessly on her bicep, a result of Kain's escape over a year ago.  
  
_This story would have been told soon enough_ , she told herself.  _And, she should know._  
  
Steeling herself, Kiyone declared, “Ryoko was integral in apprehending and killing Kain after his escape in April 1996.”  
  
Mitsuki's eyes widened as she unfolded her arms and sit up in her chair.  Likewise, Zed and Oh immediately became interested in what the young detective had to say.  
  
“Kiyone!” Mihoshi interjected.  “I thought we weren't going to tell anyone!”  
  
“It's okay,” her partner placated.  
  
Washu nodded.  “Now's as good a time as any.”  
  
“Ryoko mentioned 'taking out Kain',” Zed acknowledged.  “You were part of that?”  
  
“Yes,” Kiyone replied.  “After Kain destroyed the GP headquarters in his escape, he came to Earth.  He then traveled 26 years back in time to assassinate Masaki Achika, Tenchi's mother, when she was still a high school student.”  Motioning to the Ryoan genius at her side, she added, “Had Washu not intervened, Tenchi would have been erased from existence.”  
  
“As well as every action he had ever taken,” Washu continued, “including our involvement in toppling Kagato's regime.”  
  
“Initially,” the turquoise-haired detective resumed, “we didn't know Kain was involved.  Considering that history had changed, we agreed to travel back to 1970 to investigate.”  Her eyes turned somberly to Mitsuki as she said, “Mihoshi and I only received a partial message mentioning Kain before communications were lost.  Only after we were in the past did Washu discover that headquarters had been destroyed.”  
  
Kiyone could see the attention in Mitsuki's eyes, the judgment shoved aside to hear this tale.  
  
“It took some doing,” the minute researcher elaborated, “but we linked the NVO energy from the GP headquarters to the NVO energy at the point of Achika's disappearance.  We laid a trap to capture him in subspace again, but he pulled both Achika and Nobuyuki in with him.  Since Tenchi and Achika were immediate family, I linked his thoughts with hers so he could image where she was in the pocket dimension.”  
  
“And,” Kiyone concluded, “Ryoko used her teleporting ability to send herself, Tenchi, and Ayeka to Achika's side.  The four of them faced Kain together.”  
  
“Though,” Washu mentioned, “you were the one who actually gave the final blow, Kiyone.”  
  
“Naturally,” Zed asked, “you have proof of these events?”  
  
“Who do you take me for?” Washu retorted.  “I kept every bit of telemetry.”  
  
With a wave of her hand, she summoned her phantom laptop and entered a few commands.  In moments, a recording of the battle against Kain played for those assembled.  They could clearly see Kain standing opposed to Tenchi, Tenchiken drawn and ignited.  Close behind him, Ryoko and Ayeka had rescued Nobuyuki and the Juraian-form Achika, who was bewildered at all she was seeing and experiencing.  After entering another command, Washu showed Kain's final moments as the blast from Kiyone's dimensional cannon caused the subspace pocket to implode and collapse.  
  
Mitsuki watched in silence, her biological hand lightly clutching her technological replacement.  Her thoughts muddled between the scenes she was watching and the memories she had of the GP headquarters destruction.  She merely listened as the conversation continued.  
  
“So,” Oh asked, “Kain is dead?”  
  
The Ryoan researcher nodded, “As far as I can tell.  After the subspace pocket collapsed, I scanned the spacetime region around the moment of impact.  No NVO energy was detected after the implosion.”  
  
“Since Kain was the only known form of NVO energy,” the female chief pondered, “it does beg where this bug creature obtained access to the power.”  
  
“Indeed,” the genius concurred, “as well as why he was targeting Ryoko.”  
  
“It also begs why this incident was never reported,” Zed added, addressing both Mihoshi and Kiyone.  
  
“Washu had Ayeka wipe the memories of both to preserve the timeline,” Kiyone retorted, “not unlike the Men in Black would have.  It was almost as if the incident never happened.”  
  
“I would agree that Tenchi's father would be a neutral,” the male chief conceded, “though I would disagree about Achika.  She was a Juraian princess and, arguably, not a neutral, much like her son.”  
  
“By blood, yes,” the teal-tressed detective accepted, “she was a Juraian princess.  However, like Tenchi, she was born and raised on Earth.  Until Washu linked her mind with Tenchi's, she had no knowledge of her connection to Jurai, let alone why Kain wanted to kill her.  Admittedly, we still don't know why.”  
  
“Still, that doesn't explain your decision not to report the incident.”  
  
“Well,” Washu remarked, “there is the matter of time travel being illegal, both by the Men in Black and the Galaxy Police.”  
  
“But,” Mihoshi countered, “we were chasing after Kain, who had changed history.  Doesn't that make it okay?”  
  
Oh nodded.  “Allowances are made in law enforcement circumstances like this, but Zed's question still stands.”  
  
Kiyone's eyes focused on Zed as she calmly answered, “Because I thought Achika and Nobuyuki should be left alone.  They didn't need the Men in Black or Galaxy Police prying into their lives, however discreetly.  I knew Washu's curiosity and thoroughness would ensure their safety.”  
  
“I can understand the sentiment, detective,” the aging leader said, “but you were still in breach of protocol.  We can't have people popping in and out of time and changing history unchecked.”  
  
“I realize that.”  
  
“Also, you are in no position to decide who should be left alone or who should oversee an investigation.”  
  
“I know.”  
  
“To be honest, I'm sure your fellow officers would have liked to have known that Kain was dead.”  
  
Zed motioned to Mitsuki, whose distant gaze rose to meet Kiyone's.  The resident officer felt a pang of guilt looking upon the scarred face of her old friend.  Expecting an angry barrage, Kiyone steeled herself for the liaison officer's justified fury.  
  
However, the redheaded GP member silently stood and left the room.  
  
While Mihoshi stood and followed after their mutual friend, the turquoise-haired detective was at a loss for words.  Oh glared at her immediate superior with a quiet contempt as he raised an eyebrow, not expecting quite that reaction.  Washu, on the other hand, just shook her head and resumed her tasks:  understanding their enemy and saving their comatose friend.

 

* * *

  
For the last five years, Ryua Ryoko had held the title “space pirate”, but few of her friends knew what those words really meant.  Naturally, Kiyone and Mihoshi had read her dossier from the Galaxy Police, but those GP documents only contained evidence and testimonies, not the real experience.  Ironically, her nemesis Nagi was perhaps the only one who truly understood this appellation.  
  
Ryoko had been raised in a world far different, far more cruel, than the royal culture that Ayeka and Sasami had enjoyed, let alone the civilization of commoners that the GP protected.  The criminal world of the pirate guilds demanded strength and ruthlessness, rather than kindness and mercy.  Often, the compassionate or gentle became prey for those far more unethical and immoral.  
  
Being a young woman in such an environment, Ryoko had learned to defend herself, to project power, to manipulate others.  Throughout her career, she had survived numerous daring heists and vile double-crosses, becoming well-versed in violence and deception.  Most of her alliances had proven to be temporary or for mere convenience, usually with her own self-serving goals in mind.  True friends had been sparse for most of her life, the most notable being Ryo-Ohki.  
  
Ryoko tapped this brutal side of her nature whenever she darted into battle:  wily, fierce, merciless.  During the coup d’etat on Jurai, her criminal skills reemerged readily and helped return Ayeka to Juraian space.  Likewise, when the cyan-maned fury joined the party traveling to 1970, her instincts quickly identified a time-displaced GP operative.  
  
And, these same instincts had caused her to teleport away from Ayeka’s side in the Gramercy Park Hotel.  
  
Sitting atop one of the metal eagles adorning the Chrysler Building, Ryoko gazed at the sunrise shrouding the Manhattan skyline in a warm orange glow.  Despite the calming view, the lady pirate continued to wrestle with the feelings within her chest.  She relived the events of the previous evening in her mind time and again.  
  
Agent L had blabbed their location to the MiB, which, to Ryoko, felt like a violation of trust.  The pirate, along with Ayeka and Washu, had snagged Elle from their first encounter with the mantis creature.  As the Ryoan woman had understood, the Terran agent would clear up all the confusion with her superiors, not bring them down on their heads.  In retrospect, both Elle and Ayeka had had reasonable arguments, but the emotions of broken trust had refused to let Ryoko listen.  
  
Infuriated, she had left the lobby and had begun to plan her next action when sounds of conflict arose from the lobby.  The creature had followed them and attacked Elle to get to her.  Hungry for some retribution, Ryoko had engaged the beast alongside Ayeka, but his power and the disarray of the two had led to him restraining the pirate against the floor.  
  
So pinned, black flames had emerged from his body and started to enshroud her.  The fire had not burned her as it had crept along her skin, but rather had felt like it wanted to seep into her.  In those moments, a voice had echoed in her mind, growing louder with each of her rapid heartbeats.  As she had struggled to free herself, she had recognized the voice and a single word, “daughter”.  
  
All of Ryoko’s fury instantly had turned to fear.  She had had no idea what had been happening to her, and to hear that voice say that one word had chilled her to her very core.  Even now, her mind clawed for answers to what that black fire could have been, and how that voice could come from it.  
  
Disturbed, her clutched her arms close, thinking, _She’s dead.  I saw her die.  That voice couldn’t be hers._  
  
Thankfully, a GP officer and another MiB agent had arrived to blast the mantis away, separating Ryoko from that black blaze.  The battle had resumed and ended with the creature loosing one last black projectile.  
  
_Then_ , she recollected somberly, _Ayeka pushed me out of the way._  
  
The princess had taken the entire blast herself, her Juraian barrier failing to protect her.  Ryoko remembered seeing her rival and friend lying motionless next to her on the floor of the hotel’s lobby.  While the voice in her head had chilled her soul, the sight of Ayeka seemingly lifeless had stunned her, had taken her aback.  The two had known each other since childhood, had squabbled on numerous occasions, had their eyes on the same man.  While the pirate had often joked about leaving the princess to die, she had never actually imagined it coming to pass.  
  
Now, hours from that moment, Ryoko had yet to name all the emotions she felt in that instant.  
  
Unfortunately, reality had forced her to ignore those feelings.  The GP officer and MiB agent had barked orders at her with their weapons drawn.  Despite wanting to help Ayeka, Ryoko had felt that these two would not have let her, and more police forces had been on their way.  Her instincts, her desire to be free, had compelled her to teleport elsewhere in the building.  After regrouping with Ryo-Ohki, the two had escaped the dragnet placed on the hotel after the mantis’s attack.  
  
Reflecting on this event, Ryoko attempted to process all that had happened.  The creature clearly had an agenda with her, and that black flame had a significant role in that agenda.  What did it want with her?  What was it trying to do to her?  At the same time, she worried about what happened to Ayeka.  Was she alright?  What did that last blast do to her?  The pirate’s emotions were muddled on both matters, and she despised it.  
  
Then, a familiar and welcome voice spoke to her mind.  _What should we do now?_  
  
Ryoko turned back to the Chrysler Building to see Ryo-Ohki sitting atop the wall, where the metal eagle was attached.  The cabbit mewed somberly as she hopped toward her mistress and into her lap.  
  
_Do you think Washu finally convinced them?_ her furry companion asked.  _Should we try to go back?_  
  
Petting her partner’s head gently, the pirate answered distantly, “Washu probably got herself and Ayeka off the hook, but I doubt she could talk fast enough to get me or you off anything.”  
  
_You think Ayeka is okay?_  
  
The Ryoan woman could sense the worry in Ryo-Ohki’s thought-message, and the cabbit could likely detect the concern in her master’s replies.  Regardless, she patted her ally’s side and forced some hope into her words.  
  
“Washu’s a genius, right?  Ayeka should be fine with her around.”  
  
_Yeah, I know._  
  
Continuing to think about the princess, about the battle that left her wounded, shifted the cyan-maned pirate’s thoughts back to the monstrous insect.  It harmed both her and her friend, as well as had some ulterior motive.  Both of those matters hardened her gaze, and she swore not only to uncover his motive, but also to ensure that he never could achieve that end.  
  
Her criminal mind set to work.  While not as advanced as cities on other worlds, New York City had a similar structure to other ports she had known:  a commercial zone, an industrial district, as well as some darkened alleys.  Considering what Washu and Elle had said about the extraterrestrial population of the city, an underworld network likely existed here, however small, which might have answers to her questions.  
  
Cracking the knuckles in her left hand, she pulsed her crimson power along her fingers.  
  
“Ryo-Ohki,” she began, “what say we properly introduce ourselves to this city?”  
  


* * *

  
Masaki Tenchi gazed helplessly through the glass separating him from Jurai Ayeka’s bedside.  Within the MiB’s infirmary, the violet-tressed princess laid upon a medical cot surrounded by monitoring devices.  Wires and fluid tubes trailed from her to the machines, keeping her hydrated and stable, as well as recording her vital signs for change.  
  
Sadness and frustration brewed in the young prince’s chest while he watched the sweat beading on Ayeka’s brow, her tormented slumber.  After Zed had assigned agents to escort Ayeka’s group to MiB headquarters, and to capture Ryoko, Tenchi and Kiyone had raced to beat them to the location.  Unfortunately, they had arrived far too late.  Mitsuki and Agent J had already arrived and engaged the mantis creature.  Ryoko had already fled, as had the beast, but not without collateral damage.  
  
The Earth-born teenager remembered walking into the Gramercy Park Hotel, the lobby ransacked from the recently concluded battle.  While Kiyone immediately addressed Mitsuki and Jay in regard to the incident, Tenchi gravitated toward Washu and Elle, where he found Ayeka in their care.  Her elegant kimono was torn and singed from the violent exchange, particularly around her chest, where the final blow was struck.  There she laid, motionless on the floor, wounded, defeated.  
  
At first, he rushed toward her, but Washu pushed him back, warning him to give the professionals room to work.  His concerns quickly shifted to fears from the gravity in the Ryoan researcher’s tone while she explained what had happened.  Listening to the events, about the mantis creature and the subsequent combat, the prince could not stop looking at Ayeka.  His mouth grew dry as an ache pounded in his chest, his friend a casualty of some monster.  
  
_And, Ryoko is still missing_ , he thought now, _with that monster after her._  
  
As he worried about both women, guilt seeped into his spirit.  Neither of them, nor Washu, had contacted him about this situation.  Admittedly, the initial problem seemed more in Ayeka’s province of politics, but the mantis has escalated matters.  
  
_I could have been there_ , he berated himself, thinking of the sword hilt in his cloak.  _If I was there, maybe she wouldn’t be here now._  
  
He hated this feeling.  When Kagato usurped Jurai’s throne, Tenchi was dragged into the situation long before he knew that he was part of it.  Ryoko, Katsuhito, Azaka, and Kamidake all fell before he could get to the throne room.  Even then, Kagato nearly killed Ayeka before the young prince could stand against the false emperor.  When Kain went back in time, Tenchi continually collapsed because of Time itself wanting to erase him.  He was merely baggage in Sasami’s care while Ryoko and the others pro-actively were watching and protecting his mother.  Even in the final battle with Kain, it was Achika who stood firm and fought the beast, not her son.  
  
Tenchi wanted to act, to do something, not just watch his friends suffer.  
  
He glanced back at the couch behind him, where Sasami laid asleep with tears drying on her freckled cheeks.  She had clung to the prince and had cried into his shoulder when he first explained Ayeka’s condition to her.  He could only imagine what fears were flooding her dreams as she slept now.  Before Tenchi had left Jurai, Ayeka had told him that the sisters had lost their parents shortly after Sasami was born.  As a result, the planetary council gave proxy rule to their mother’s family, House Kamiki, until Ayeka was old enough to marry or take the throne herself, an arrangement Kagato likely exploited.  While Tenchi had never really known his mother, Sasami never had the opportunity to know either of her parents at all.  To her, Ayeka was not only sister, but mother in many ways as well.  
  
As a boy, Tenchi had been blissfully ignorant of his mother’s malady until shortly before her passing, but he still remembered the pain of realizing she would never come home.  
  
_Don’t let her know that feeling, Ayeka_ , the prince prayed, his eyes drifting back to the elder princess behind the glass.  _Come back to her._  
  
While the young man lamented the current situation, the door to the suite opened, allowing Makibi Kiyone to enter.  Her teal hair cast a shadow over her eyes, accentuating the sober mood found in her gait.  Preoccupied, she did not initially notice Tenchi’s presence as he approached her.  When he finally caught her attention, she lifted her face and shifted the hair from shading her visage.  There, he could see the conflict in her eyes while she attempted to wear a mask of professionalism.  
  
“Oh, Tenchi,” she responded.  “Any word on Ayeka?”  
  
“No, not yet,” he answered.  
  
She glanced down to Sasami on the couch a few meters away and asked, “How is Sasami taking everything?”  
  
Tenchi followed her eyes and commented, “Like you might imagine.  She cried herself to sleep a couple hours ago.”  
  
Kiyone folded her arms with a weighty sigh.  “This is such a mess.  I wish they had just waited for Mihoshi and me.”  
  
“Given what Washu’s said, I can understand why they didn’t.”  
  
“Granted,” the detective accepted, “but now the entire issue has become muddled.  Ayeka’s involvement may well sour any existing relations between the Earth’s agencies and Jurai, and Ryoko is likely to be incarcerated again.”  
  
“That’s all the more reason to find Ryoko and catch the creature that hurt Ayeka,” the prince retorted.  
  
“The MiB have already sent units for both of those tasks,” Kiyone sedately stated.  
  
“But, they’ll arrest Ryoko!” he argued.  
  
An angry heat passed over the officer’s face as she restrained herself from barking back at him.  She knew well what the MiB would do, what she should have officially done herself years ago.  However she rationalized her willful negligence, the law still loomed over them all.  
  
“Tenchi,” she whispered hotly when her blue eyes met the brown of his, “I know Ryoko is a good person at heart, but that does not change the law.  Mihoshi and I were tasked with arresting her, and we chose to turn a blind eye to her.  _We_ are likely to be investigated and reprimanded for being _kind_ to her.”  
  
Realization socked Tenchi in his gut.  In worrying about Ryoko and Ayeka, he had not considered Mihoshi and Kiyone’s situation.  In the seclusion of Okayama, far away from the responsibilities of the Galactic Union, they had had the liberty to neglect their duty to imprison the lady pirate for her crimes.  In so doing, they have broken their own oaths to the Galaxy Police, which would have consequences for the duo.  
  
Closing her eyes, she calmly continued, “I don’t regret that choice, or others I’ve made.  Honestly, I think I picked that up myself from Ryoko.  However, regardless, I am culpable for my actions, just like Ryoko is for hers.”  
  
“Then,” the teenager asked, “what can we do?  We can’t just sit here and wait for the MiB to catch Ryoko, or for the mantis-thing to find her.”  
  
“Unfortunately, Tenchi,” she gravely corrected, “that is exactly all we can do.  Mihoshi and I do not have jurisdiction here, and the MiB would likely become suspicious of us due to our relationship with Ryoko.  As for you, they still haven’t decided to regard you as a Juraian prince or a Terran citizen.”  
  
Listening to Kiyone this entire time, Tenchi could no longer ignore the defeatist attitude permeating her words.  
  
“This isn’t like you, Kiyone,” he began.  “You don’t just give up like this.”  
  
“This isn’t like the coup on Jurai or Kain’s attack on your mother, Tenchi,” the detective explained.  “Both of those situations were legitimate crimes, and we acted accordingly.”  
  
For a moment, the GP officer remembered Mitsuki’s stony gaze from across the table in the recent meeting.  A shard of shame pierced her heart as she remembered her redheaded colleague leaving in silence.  
  
“However,” she added, “while Ryoko is clearly a target of this creature’s aggression, she too has to be judged for her actions.  I don’t like it myself, but it is the reality of the situation, for better or worse.”  
  
Tenchi’s lip curled with disgust.  “This isn’t right,” he firmly stated.  
  
“I’m sorry, Tenchi,” she said, her eyes sliding to the side, back to her own thoughts.  
  
The prince rested a hand on her shoulder as he asked, “What’s wrong, Kiyone?”  
  
Silence held in the air as his sincere words fell upon her ears.  She thought back to the exchange during the meeting with Zed and Oh, and her confession of what transpired with Kain.  Guilt riddled her chest as she saw Mitsuki’s metallic hand resting on the table.  
  
“Mitsuki,” her breath finally uttered, “the liaison officer with the MiB.  She was a friend of mine, years ago.”  Her eyes closed when she continued, “She lost her arm when Kain escaped from the old headquarters, to say nothing of those who lost their lives that day.”  Her gaze met Tenchi’s again.  “I never reported that we defeated Kain.”  
  
“Why not?”  
  
“Because I thought it best to leave your parents alone and let them have their life together.”  With a shake of her head, she added, “I figured someone would follow Kain’s trail soon enough, but no one did.  Everyone was so busy reorganizing after headquarters’ destruction to investigate before his trail ran cold.”  
  
In the recesses of her deductive mind, she noted, _Kain could have easily just vanished if he wanted, but he chose to attack Achika in 1970.  Why?  Why not simply escape?_  
  
Tenchi nodded, processing what his friend has said.  
  
“I can see why Mitsuki would be upset,” he acknowledged, “but I’m glad you made the call you did.”  With a wry smile, he added, “We had enough ‘butterflies’ as it was.”  
  
A slight grin cracked through her melancholy.  “True enough.”  
  
A gravity entered the young man’s face as he added, “And, I’m glad you were kind to Ryoko as well.”  
  
She agreed silently.  Her emotions settling, her mind was freed to consider their situation, and the creature loose in the city.  Possessing powers not unlike those of a Juraian or a Ryoan, let alone Kain himself, comparable might would be needed in due time.  Since the MiB had already lost one agent already, they might not be the best equipped for the task.  
  
Then, she looked at Tenchi.  While he had not yet mastered his grandfather’s sword, he still wielded Jurai’s power, which can effectively combat the creature’s NVO energy.  With Ayeka in jeopardy and Sasami far too young and unskilled, likely he would be needed for any plan against the beast to succeed.  However, she noticed the tiredness in his eyes, the travel lag from Okayama to New York taking its toll.  
  
Unfolding her arms, she patted him on the back.  “You should get some rest, Tenchi.”  
  
“You sure, Kiyone?”  
  
“Yeah.  I’ll probably sleep some of this off myself.  I should feel better afterward.”  
  
The prince yawned, realizing his own lethargy and agreed.  After bidding one another good night, Kiyone took one last glance at the young man as he laid back in a recliner near Sasami’s couch.  
  
_We’ll probably need you soon_ , she thought.  _And, we’ll likely need Ryoko as well._  
  


* * *

  
Matsu Mitsuki sat on her bed gazing at her mechanical hand.  Having removed her uniform’s jacket and shirt, she could see where the metal met her flesh, where the two fused just below her shoulder.  She remembered relearning how to touch and grip objects with her new left hand, how much focus it took, how painful the connection was at first.  The natural fingers of her right hand slid slowly over the union between inorganic and organic, just feeling the difference in sensation.  The artificial skin gave her feedback of pressure and temperature, but not like her natural skin.  The responses from the replacement arm felt muted, changing discretely from one feeling to the next.  
  
Mitsuki’s eyes lifted to the mirror before her, looking back at herself.  Despite wearing her white undershirt for modesty, she could see most of the scars left from the incident a year ago.  Callous tissue had grown around the junction between the remnant of her left arm and its cybernetic replacement.  The dull metal seemed to grow out of her skin, clashing aesthetically with her flesh.  The long-since healed wounds from the collapsed floor jaggedly traced their way from her arm, along her shoulder and neck, and at last to her face.  She remembered vividly the horror of seeing herself in a mirror for the first time after the incident.  At that time, her body was still mending, these deep gouges in her form open and angry, needing healing gels and salves from the GP medical corps.  Even after several grafts of cloned skin, the scars were never completely hidden.  
  
During months of habitually cleaning her wounds, she was forced to crop her hair shorter, far more mannish, a style she retained even after her wounds healed.  
  
Everyday, Mitsuki had been reminded of the sudden annihilation of the Galaxy Police’s headquarters, of her friends being vaporized, of her life changing irrevocably.  
  
After recovering from her wounds, the GP officer read every file she could on Kain, the escapee who caused headquarters’ destruction.  In so doing, she learned of his original 1896 rampage and incarceration, thanks to the sacrifice of that era’s Juraian emperor.  Unfortunately, the trail of Kain's escape grew cold after the headquarters fell.  A few images of the villain were taken by satellites leaving the Galactic Union's borders, but none at the time were equipped to detect NVO energy.  Those scant images were in the vague direction of Earth, but no further sightings ever arose.  The GP decided to focus on reorganizing, to prepare for when Kain resurfaced.  He never did.  
  
Naturally, the connection to Jurai reminded Mitsuki of coup d’etat lead by the false “Jurai Yosho”, who was revealed with assistance from Kiyone and Mihoshi.  During that incident, key personnel in the Galaxy Police hierarchy became involved with Juraian operatives, promising to capture Ayeka and Sasami in return for favors and collusion.  At the time, Mitsuki was too involved with her own career to notice the corruption.  Indeed, she willingly attempted to arrest Kiyone for her connection to Ayeka.  Only later would Mitsuki discover that the order for Kiyone's arrest was given after Mihoshi accidentally overheard the detective sergeant talking about the conspiracy with a Juraian agent.  
  
The truth did not lessen Mitsuki's embarrassment at being demoted after the conspiracy was ousted, and regularly serving tea to the duo.  She did not shed a tear when the pair was demoted themselves from a botched case.  
  
The connection between Earth and Jurai supported the images of Kain flying toward Earth's solar system.  When Mitsuki heard about the creation of a liaison officer with the Men in Black, she opted to take the position.  Since Kiyone and Mihoshi were busy with the reorganization and reconstruction of the GP, the redheaded policewoman was free to investigate for herself.  Sadly, she never realized that she was 26 years too late.  
  
Now, over a year after Kain's escape, Kiyone admitted to ending him herself, corroborated by Washu's recorded telemetry.  
  
Initially, Mitsuki judgmentally listened to Kiyone’s tale, how the resident officer and her partner allowed the wanted Ryoan pirate to run free.  The liaison sat with arms folded, only imagining how hypocritical the teal-tressed detective could be, befriending this menace and failing at her duty.  
  
However, the story then twisted the knife left in Mitsuki’s chest by Kain.  The sentient mass of NVO energy had traveled back in time 26 years to murder Masaki Tenchi’s mother, and the cyan-maned woman had been integral to his defeat.  Moreover, Kiyone herself had pulled the trigger that avenged all those lost at headquarters.  Watching the telemetry recorded by Washu, the redheaded officer saw the face of her enemy, the one who took her arm, who took her friends.  
  
Her emotions muddled in her heart.  She could feel the ache in her scars, wanting to vindicate herself for the wrongs done to her.  Helplessness pressed down upon her, watching how the beast seemed to dominate his adversaries, his sheer power undeniable.  An awe did fill her eyes as Achika took her son’s sword and all but cut down the shadowy creature, the might of Jurai just as imposing as Kain.  The moment Kiyone killed Kain crashed into Mitsuki’s eyes, and all the feelings crested when the pocket dimension collapsed upon the villain.  
  
While Zed was grilling Kiyone, the liaison officer felt hollow and lost.  She needed to think, alone, so she stood and left the meeting.  Mihoshi followed, but Mitsuki knew MiB headquarters quite well and evaded her blond pursuer fairly quickly.  
  
In her personal quarters on-site in the MiB facility, Mitsuki gazed at herself, wondering how to feel.  
  
Then, a clamber came from her closet a few steps away from her mirror.  Surprised, the redhead spun to her wardrobe and called for the lights.  As the illumination waxed from moody to a warm brightness, the closet door opened and allowed Mihoshi to tumble out, along with some of Mitsuki’s outfits.  Landing on her side, the fair-haired detective slowly rolled into her back and groaned, rubbing where she hand landed.  
  
“Mihoshi?”  
  
“Ow,” the resident officer croaked as her blue eyes met those of her colleague.  Beaming, the jovial woman announced, “Ah, there you are!  I was looking for you.”  
  
Peering into her closet, Mitsuki inquired, “How did you get in here, Mihoshi?”  The liaison between the MiB and GP placed her hand against the solid walls of the small enclosure, not seeing how Mihoshi arrived.  
  
“Well, I tried following you, but I got lost,” the blond detective explained, “so I asked Washu if she could help me find you.”  
  
With a slight glare and a brow raised, the redhead asked, “You got the mad genius Hakubi Washu to drop you into my closet?”  
  
“Not drop, really,” Mihoshi corrected as she stood and dusted off her uniform.  “She opened a door for me to come to your room, and I walked through, but I think I tripped on something.”  
  
“A ‘door’?”  
  
“She called it something else, a ‘homio-merfa gate’ or something like that.”  
  
Rolling her eyes, Mitsuki shifted the topic, saying, “Regardless of its name, what are you doing here, Mihoshi?”  
  
Concern entered the blond’s expressive eyes as she responded, “I was worried.  You just stormed out of the meeting.”  
  
Glancing away, her colleague answered, “I had heard all I wanted to hear.”  
  
While Mihoshi was not the most adept officer, she did care wholeheartedly for her friends, as well as people in general.  She had always wanted to help others, which was a primary reason she enlisted into the Galaxy Police.  Likewise, her kind nature led her to lend aid to those affected by Kain’s escape, her main occupation over the past year.  
  
And, Mitsuki now counted among them.  
  
“Kiyone just wanted everyone to know the truth about what happened.  She didn’t mean to hurt you.”  
  
“That’s not the point,” the redhead retorted as she took a few steps into the room, her heart still muddled.  
  
“I mean, we probably should have said something sooner.”  
  
“You should have,” the liaison officer said, an angry edge to her voice.  
  
Guilt bled into Mihoshi’s eyes and voice as she apologized, “I’m sorry.  We always assumed someone would follow his trail eventually.”  
  
The metal fingers of Mitsuki’s artificial hand clenched as she silently acknowledged, _I did, when I finally could._  
  
“Do you know how many back at the GP want to find and kill Kain, right now?”  
  
“A lot,” the resident officer stated.  “I’ve worked with a lot of them, helping them relearn how to walk and write.  They’re all very angry about it.”  Her blue eyes lowered as she admitted, “I didn’t know you were there when it happened.”  
  
“Look at me, Mihoshi,” Mitsuki instructed as she raised her arms at her side and turned to face her colleague.  Frustration and anger twisted the red-haired GP member as she declared, “Everyday, I remember what happened, and all the friends I lost because of that monster.  I followed every clue I could to find the bastard!  Why do you think I took this liaison position?!  I wanted to find that son of a bitch and… !”  
  
Then, Mitsuki stopped herself.  _And what?_ she asked herself.  _What would I have done?  What could I have done?_  
  
In this moment, she realized that she was yelling at the blond woman, who had played a role in the villain’s defeat.  With tears welling in the edges of her eyes, Mihoshi had simply taken Mitsuki’s angry words.  
  
“I know we should have reported about what happened in 1970,” the resident officer admitted.  “I know he hurt you and so many others, and that won’t ever change.”  Tears rolled down her cheeks as she asked, “Does it help knowing that he’s dead?”  
  
The redhead glanced down at her metal hand, helpless.  Through all her investigation into Kain, she knew well what she could have done against him:  nothing but be struck down.  All the anger and hate that filled her heart would have made no difference against the shadowy entity.  Having seen Washu’s recording of the battle against the villain, Mitsuki would have been as useless as the teenage boy with Achika.  Coupled with Kiyone’s account, the video crushed her revenge fantasies and fed her impotent frustration.  
  
Now, she had vented that frustration on someone who not only participated in Kain’s defeat, but also was concerned for her wellbeing.  
  
Beneath the churning emotions, Mitsuki knew what she should say, but the words refused to come.  The only words that filled her mind were venomous, spiteful, and would only ruin this situation further.  She wanted to be alone.  She needed to be alone.  
  
Taking this lucid moment, the liaison officer opened the door to the rest of the complex and whispered softly, “Leave.”  
  
Mihoshi started to speak, but Mitsuki cut her off sharply but whispered, “Just _go_.”  
  
Wordlessly, the blond acquiesced and exited her colleague’s room.  Once more alone, the redhead ran her fingers through her cropped hair and grasped her locks in frustration.  
  


* * *

  
Like most cities, New York had plenty of niche hole-in-the-wall bars scattered throughout its boroughs, each catering to a particular taste and clientele.  Naturally, with its secretive extraterrestrial population, the island of Manhattan had a selection of watering holes for visitors and residents alike.  To keep the neutrals out, most worked not unlike prohibition speakeasies, requiring passwords for entry.  Of course, the Men in Black licensed the barkeeps and helped them stock their exotic beverages, as well as keeping a loose oversight in case any bar fight got out of hand.  
  
As the sun was setting this night, the cyan-maned Ryua Ryoko approached just such an establishment off 18th Street and Irving.  A slit-like window opened, allowing the bouncer to peer down at the voluptuous Ryoan woman.  
  
“Password,” the gruff man’s voice demanded.  
  
“Yoda howrs at midu-naito,” she responded in broken English.  The past hour of eavesdropping had allowed her to catch the password, but sadly, her command of the language was nonexistent.  Thankfully, the Washu’s transducelator helped her at least understand most conversation.  
  
The slit closed before the door opened, revealing a tall and muscular humanoid.  Blinking with vertical eyelids, his four eyes focused on Ryoko.  He stepped aside and allowed her to enter, shutting the door behind her.  
  
In a gruff and hissing voice, he said in Cerulian to her, “Fresh off the boat?”  
  
“Just passing through,” she replied coolly.  
  
To her left was a wall-mounted rack, where several skin suits hung rather macabrely, each fully dressed.  Thankfully, all were artificial, no doubt issued by the MiB to conceal the identities of their alien residents.  The bouncer motioned to a sign amongst the skin suits, reading “Check your suit at the door” in a selection of languages.  
  
While she did feel insulted at the idea of her body being fake, Ryoko glared back at him, her amber feline eyes narrowing and mildly glowing in the dim light.  She pointed to her eyes and her elfin ears.  
  
“I’m _all_ natural.”  
  
“Lucky you,” he grumbled back.  
  
She cracked her knuckles at her side, pushing to the side her urge to punch him through the door.  She had a purpose in visiting this tavern, and she did not need a slight to detract her from that goal.  
  
Continuing into the main parlor, the space pirate recognized the general layout of the establishment:  a bar near the back, games such as pool and darts along the side, dining and card tables distributed around the main chamber, a small clearing for dancing to the music pumping through the speakers overhead.  She was reminded of many of her favorite haunts throughout the galaxy, as well as the nights she stayed their drinking and partying until closing.  She also knew well the type of people who frequented such a place.  The regulars were sitting at the bar, nursing their poison of choice.  Swindlers were slyly liberating dollar after dollar from their mark’s wallet in the games.  Old friends were trading tales and jokes over a pint at the tables.  A couple lonely souls were eying the dance floor, hoping for someone to step up first.  
  
Ryoko took a seat at the bar, motioning the barkeep to her stool.  The purveyor of liquor was vaguely humanoid, but had three sets of arms, which was likely advantageous to handling multiple or complex drink orders.  Already, he was mixing another beverage for another customer on the opposing end of the counter.  
  
“What’s your sauce, luv?” he inquired with a slight aquatic gurgle to his voice, and a slight British accent.  
  
“Got any Ryoan ale?”  
  
“Sorry,” he apologized, “but we can’t afford to import anything from the Jurai Empire.”  
  
“How about Heliotopan vodka?”  
  
“Now, that I have!”  
  
“Good,” she acknowledged.  “Can I get that straight with a chilled glass?”  
  
“Of course, ma’am.”  
  
As the being behind the counter retrieved a chilled glass from a nearby refrigerator, Ryoko’s feline eyes scanned over the attendees of the tavern.  Her piratical experience had taught her how to identify both threats and prey, and tonight, she had a particular flavor of prey in mind.  Thanks to some idle chatter with Frank the Pug before last night’s battle, she had learned several informants and shady figures frequented this establishment.  
  
_And, one of them might know about the bug_ , she reasoned.  
  
The barkeep set her drink near her hand, and she casually paid him with a GU treasury note, tipping quite generously.  
  
“You don’t mind if I hang out here for a while, do you?” she asked.  
  
Pleased at his payment, he answered, “Not at all, ma’am.  Just let me know what you need.”  
  
“I’ll do that.”  
  
For the next couple of hours, the space pirate kept to herself, nursing one drink after another.  While she got a nice warmth from the liquor, her goal was not to get drunk, but rather to blend into the atmosphere.  In a shadowy end of the bar, keeping to herself, she could watch the various extraterrestrials go about their business, be it to unwind after work or to engage in some shady deals.  Tipping the bartender well kept him pleasantly and tacitly complacent in her scheme.  
  
Finally, at nearly 10pm, Ryoko found her target.  From the front entrance, the bouncer allowed a wiry humanoid to enter the bar.  Just over a meter tall, the vaguely masculine figure scuttled to the bar and ordered a cheap Terran bourbon.  His face was smooth and flat, his nostrils merely slits between his bulbous, frog-like eyes.  He sat alone and downed his drink immediately, quickly requesting another in short succession.  
  
Sipping her vodka, Ryoko recognized this being, Galluck Chroke, and thanks to Mihoshi’s idle babbling about the news and work, the pirate knew a little about the man.  About three years ago, Chroke had defected to the Galactic Union from the intelligence agency on his home-world of Keporolis.  In so doing, he had brought evidence that Keporolis had been gathering detailed information about several GU worlds:  documents of high-ranking officials, locations of military maneuvers, weaknesses of strategic networks.  Naturally, Keporolis had denied any malicious intent, but Chroke had spoken of invasions and infiltrations, as well as what the retaliation would bring upon his world.  Needless to say, political connections between the GU and Keporolis had since disintegrated, and Chroke had become a pariah and had lived in exile.  
  
And, word was that Chroke never stopped collecting intelligence.  
  
While the supposed whistle-blower downed his first shot of the night, a whoosh of air gusted at his side.  Glancing in that direction, he found Ryoko taking a seat next to him, her lips set in a musing smile.  Her feline eyes widened in the dim light, becoming increasingly more black and menacing to him as her gaze pierced him.  
  
“C-can I help you?” he stumbled in his anemic and cracking voice.  
  
“I think you might,” she purred in her melodic tones.  “I’m new in town, and I wanted to know a little about the town.”  
  
“W-well, you can just ask the MiB,” he retorted waving to the barkeep.  “I just live here.”  
  
“As you might imagine, the MiB don’t know everything,” she countered, her eyelids narrowing, “and I have it on good authority that you have information that they don’t.”  
  
“Y-you don’t say?” he stammered as the barkeep poured him another shot.  “I doubt they would work with a Ryoan pirate anyway.”  
  
Her smile widened.  “So, you know who I am?”  
  
“No, but I recognize your features,” the informant explained.  “Judging from your humanoid form with minor feline traits, you are likely either from Ryua or Pentinon.  Given your statement about the MiB, I would presume you are Ryoan rather than Pentinian.  If Ryoan, you are more likely a pirate than a cleric.”  
  
The pirate nodded.  “Pretty good.  Then, what can you tell me about bugs with energy swords?”  
  
His brows raised as he quickly downed his liquor.  She sipped her vodka once more and set it aside as she watched him carefully.  His dry skin began to grow moist with amphibian perspiration, his bulbous eyes shook with a subtle, fearful tremor.  
  
Coolly, she added, “I’m sure someone with your connections would have heard of something like that.”  
  
“I-I…” the frog-like man stuttered, “… T-there’s no such thing.”  
  
At this denial, Ryoko’s smile faded away.  “So, you haven’t heard about the MiB agent who was killed a couple nights back?”  
  
“Everyone has,” he answered, “and the APB from that night regarded a _Ryoan woman_ , not a bug.”  
  
A glare manifested in her eyes.  “And, the APB from _last_ night?”  
  
“It still mentioned a _Ryoan woman_!” he barked back at her.  
  
A scowl crossed her brow as she demanded, “And, what _else_?”  
  
His eyes darted from side to side, noticing that the patronage of the bar had begun to take note of their increasingly heated exchange.  Most notably, two shady figures near a pool table cracked their knuckles and headed in the direction of the frog-man.  
  
“It doesn’t matter,” he avoided as he slipped off his stool.  “I have to go.”  
  
Frustration finally taking hold, Ryoko grabbed his shirt collar and forced him back to his seat.  Her amber eyes glowed around the darkness of her dilated pupils, her determination growing into anger.  
  
“No, you don’t,” the Ryoan pirate corrected.  “You have to stay right here and tell me what you know.”  
  
The two shady figures arrived, two quite stocky men, each dressed in a black suit like the Men in Black.  The patrons of the bar all backed away, some even slipping out the exits at the sight of apparent law enforcement.  Each of these suited men placed a hand on Chroke’s shoulder.  
  
“Come with us, please,” one of the men croaked.  
  
“We need to speak with this being,” uttered the other.  
  
Chroke froze in fear while Ryoko too was taken aback by the two apparent MiB agents.  However, they went after the frog-man, not the space pirate.  Then, there was the strange sound of their voices.  Moreover, she had not seen any other Terrans in this speakeasy, let alone agents like these.  
  
And, she would not be stopped by two fake agents when information was literally in her grasp.  
  
“No,” she retorted, gripping Chroke’s shirt tighter, “ _I_ have questions for this guy!”  
  
“Release him,” one of the men ordered with an angry gargle.  
  
When the brick-like man reached for Ryoko, the pirate tossed her quarry behind her before ramming her fist into the aggressor’s gut.  His eyes went wide as he gasped for air and fell to his knees.  Meanwhile, his compatriot rushed toward the Ryoan woman, who vanished from his grasp.  Confused, he swung his head from side to side to find her, only for her to reappear atop the counter and smash an empty bottle of liquor over his head.  
  
The broken glass cut into the skin of the man’s head, revealing his flesh merely to be a disguise, just like the suits taken at the entrance.  Beneath, his true skin had a similar tone and texture to Chroke’s.  
  
“I knew you bastards weren’t Men in Black!” she declared as she grabbed his false skin and tore it away.  
  
With the mask removed, Ryoko could see the being’s true nature, a bulkier member of Chroke’s race.  The wounded figure laid unconscious and bleeding from the lacerations in his scalp, but alive nevertheless.  
  
However, while she was focused on his identity, she did not notice his companion swing a chair at her back.  The wooden frame broke across her as she screamed and collapsed on the floor herself.  Taking a bottle and breaking it against the counter, the remaining aggressor aimed to exterminate this irritation.  As she rolled onto her side and looked up at him, Ryoko saw the makeshift blade draw back.  
  
Then, her attacker saw the ruby light gathered in her hand, flying straight at his face.  
  
The orb of energy burst and knocked him backward, scorching and melting the Terran mask.  The heat burned against his amphibian skin, and the fumes stifled his breathing, forcing him to rip the false flesh from his head.  Coughing and blinded, he did not see the Ryoan woman teleport back to her feet and thrust her knuckles into his jaw, twice.  Rocked and disoriented, he fell at last.  
  
Her chest heaving from her exertion, Ryoko stood victorious as the patrons wandered back, looking at the two fake agents.  As the barkeep rose from behind the counter, she left a few more currency notes for him.  
  
“Close me out.  I’ve had enough here.”  
  
Stepping away from the two fallen bodies, she caught a glimpse of Chroke running out of the front entrance.  With a heavy sigh, she vanished from sight and reappeared outside, where she grabbed his shirt and pulled him into a darkened alley.  The momentum flung him a few feet away from her as she stalked him slowly, her angry gaze falling upon him.  
  
“Look,” she began.  “I don’t really care who you are or what your problems are, but I just saved your ass.  You _owe_ me.”  Cracking her knuckles, she added, “So, _answer_ me.”  
  
Holding up his webbed hands defensively, Chroke relented, “Okay, okay!  I caught the MiB’s chatter about you and your friends’ encounter with the bug Illirg.”  
  
“Illirg?”  
  
“Yes, that’s the name he used in his own communiques.  The MiB probably haven’t intercepted them since he’s using a quantum entangled transmitter.  The data exchange is nearly instantaneous and undetectable, unless you look for the subspace checksum sent in parallel.  If you don’t know about it, you’d think it was just background radiation.”  
  
With a roll of her eyes, she impatiently folded her arms and stated, “I don’t care how he’s doing it.  I want to know who he is, and where he is.”  
  
“He appears to be an engineered creature, designed to be an assassin, and this is his trial run.  As to where he is, the last subspace checksum I intercepted was sent from somewhere in Brooklyn, around Third and Wythe.”  
  
“As good a lead as any,” she accepted before she motioned back toward the main road.  “Mind hailing me a cab?”  
  
“So long as I don’t have to wait for you.  No offense, but I’m not keen on hanging around a wanted felon.”  
  
The edge of her lip curled as she suppressed her desire to retort, merely replying, “You can do whatever you want, after you get me there.”  
  
“Deal.”  
  


* * *

  
An alarm blared on Agent J’s desk, rousing him from the three hours of sleep he had stolen for himself.  The few days of his MiB service has not yet allowed him to adjust to the Centaurian schedule.  Silencing the clock, he regathered his thoughts from the previous day.  
  
After he and Mitsuki had intervened in the battle at the Gramercy Park Hotel, the two had given their testimony of the event to both Chiefs Z and O.  However, once he had said his piece, Jay had been shuffled out the door while the chiefs had called three new personages:  Makibi Kiyone, Kuramitsu Mihoshi, and Hakubi Washu.  Given Zed and Oh’s demeanor, the former NYPD detective could tell that some serious issue had arisen.  He had attempted to find Laurel Weaver, or rather “Agent L”, but she had been tapped to assist with stabilizing Princess Jurai Ayeka’s condition.  
  
Thus, he had decided to retire to his newly assigned office to decide how next to approach the case before him.  
  
_There are two problems_ , he considered, _Ryoko and the bug._  
  
Despite her obvious and unusual alliances, Ryua Ryoko remained a wanted felon, and a powerful adversary.  Jay had seen a brief sample of her capabilities in the hotel, where she had teleported directly in front of the mantis and used her energy sword to slice down his face.  He would rather avoid confronting her if need be, and given her reaction to the princess’s injury, he may not have to do so.  She did not seem to be a violent monster like the bugs Jay had encountered.  With her abilities, Ryoko could likely have stood against both him and Mitsuki with their weapons, but seeing the princess wounded had affected her.  Before she had vanished, Jay had seen the conflict in her eyes.  She was human and could be reasoned with, even empathized with.  
  
_More than likely_ , he deduced, _she could be tracked as well._  
  
From his experience and training as a detective, Jay knew many habits and tendencies of the criminals he has pursued.  When on the run, many tend to disappear into the crowd, find contacts, get transportation, all in an effort to escape.  
  
_However_ , he reminded himself, _she already has Ryo-Ohki with her, who supposedly is also her ship._  
  
Admittedly, Jay had a difficult time accepting that the little puffball at the lady pirate’s side was also her spaceship.  Humoring this seemingly ridiculous hypothesis, she could leave Earth whenever she chose.  If she was staying, she had a purpose in doing so.  Remembering that the bug had held her down and covered her in some sort of black fire, as well as the princess’s condition, the agent could determine one reason for her to remain:  payback.  
  
Thus, he considered the bug.  Clearly, this creature was not the same as the giant cockroach he had goaded during his second day of work.  In addition to its size and strength, it shared several of Ryoko’s powers:  a defensive shield, flight, energy blasts.  Unlike the pirate, unfortunately, it had no qualms with collateral damage as evidenced by the damage to the hotel.  While he did not have much experience with extraterrestrial insectoid beasts, he could clearly read its intent.  
  
_And_ , he added, _it seemed squarely focused on her._   Furrowing his brows, he concluded, _We have to find one of them before they do any more damage._  
  
Given her more plain motivations, Agent J decided she would be the easier of the two to find.  Also, considering her language seemed close to some Eastern Asian tongue, he started to think through all the seedy parts of town where such languages might be spoken.  
  
_They might have been run by aliens all along_ , he remarked to himself.  
  
As he rose from his desk, the communicator in his pocket chirped.  As he raised it to his ear, he opened it into a thin handset.  
  
“Jay,” he greeted his caller.  
  
Zed’s voice answered, “Come to my office.”  
  
Before Jay could respond, static followed.  Irritated, the new agent glared at his communicator before pocketing it and complying to his supervisor’s instruction.  Once he neared Zed’s office, he noticed Elle also heading to the same location.  He hurried to her side and greeted her.  
  
“Hey, Doc.  I’ve been meaning to catch up with you.”  
  
She scoffed and replied, “I bet you were.”  
  
“Look, Laurel,” he retorted as he stopped in front of her.  “Until Zed and Oh brought me in on this case, I thought you were neuralized just like Kay.  I didn’t know they had actually offered you a job too.”  
  
Stopping with him, Elle’s eyes met his, seeing the concern in his gaze.  
  
“I get that the whole ‘ice queen’ act is your thing,” he commented, motioning back to her, “but can you turn it off for a sec?”  
  
She folded her arms and said, “Says the guy who’s hit on me just about every time we’ve been together.”  
  
“I’m _not_ hitting on you _now_ ,” he argued.  
  
“Then, what are you trying to do?”  
  
Jay thought about what he wanted to say, how he had dreaded watching her leave with Oh, how he had been elated seeing her with the MiB, how he had been incensed knowing she had disappeared.  Honestly, he was attracted to her since the first time remembered meeting her, and he was very poor at masking that feeling.  
  
_But_ , he told himself, _this isn’t the time or place._  
  
With a heavy breath, he extended his hand to her.  
  
“I’m glad you’re here, Agent L.”  
  
Watching him, Elle felt some déjà vu, recalling the expressions in his eyes.  Likewise, she felt some attraction to him as well, but she could not place where that feeling originated.  Certainly, it did not arise from the hostage situation in the morgue, where he and Kay failed to rescue her.  She also thought of how he acted when Kay drove them back to headquarters, how Jay seemed like he wanted to say more than his mentor would allow.  As former deputy medical examiner, she had little doubt that she had been neuralized at least once.  Given Jay’s obvious lack of experience, she deduced that he had never done it himself.  
  
_Did I meet him earlier, and my memory was erased like Kay’s?_ she asked herself.  
  
Regardless, compared to Ar’s foul attitude during their brief partnership, Elle appreciated Jay’s gesture.  Also, he seemed far more trustworthy than the other agents she had met thus far.  
  
With an understanding nod, she took his hand firmly and shook it.  
  
“Glad to be here, Agent J.”  
  
From Zed’s office, their chief called to them, “If you’re done being coy, I have other fish to fry today.”  
  
Jay rolled his eyes while Elle scoffed, both rather irritated by their boss, but they complied and took seats in his office across from him.  
  
“Now that the kissy-face is over with,” he chided them, “I have an assignment for you two.”  
  
“Don’t we already have a case?” Jay asked.  “We still don’t have Ryoko or the bug.”  
  
“True,” the lead agent admitted, “but this is related to Ryoko’s part in this case.  Last year, she and her friends traveled back in time to 1970.”  
  
Elle raised a brow.  “Time travel?”  
  
“Don’t act so surprised,” he snidely whipped back.  “While time travel is illegal under the laws of both the MiB and the GP, they were tracking a wanted felon, who had escaped GP custody and murdered Tenchi Masaki’s mother before he was born.”  
  
“So, they were after the Terminator?” Jay comically commented.  
  
“Not far from it,” Zed acknowledged.  “The felon Kain had a real vendetta for the Jurai royal family.  He wanted to kill every one of them, and apparently, Achika Masaki was first on his hit-list.”  
  
“Wait,” the doctor interjected.  “Wouldn’t killing her cause a paradox?”  
  
“In theory, yes,” the chief admitted.  “However, Dr. Hakubi showed the following evidence that they successfully, and lethally, stopped Kain in 1970.”  
  
With a tap on his terminal’s keyboard, Zed’s monitor displayed the telemetry recorded by Washu during the final battle with Kain.  Jay and Elle watched as Achika took her son’s sword and cleaved the dragon-like Kain, before Kiyone destroyed him and the pocket dimension around him with her dimensional cannon.  While both agents had seen Ryoko’s abilities very recently, they were taken aback by Kain’s power.  However, both recognized the black fire that composed Kain as what started to consume Ryoko and what injured Ayeka.  
  
“You think this guy is connected to the bug?” Jay considered.  
  
“It seems apparent from what we’ve seen of the creature,” Elle deduced.  
  
“From what Dr. Hakubi tells us,” Zed elaborated, “the bug has the combined powers of a Ryoan pirate, a Juraian noble, and our friend Kain here.  Since Kain was capable of time travel, I want to confirm that this knock-off hasn’t already changed history here in the States.”  
  
“How do we do that?” the young male agent inquired.  
  
“We have a guy for problems like this,” the chief explained, “but he tends to keep off the radar.”  
  
From his desk, Zed produces a photograph of a seemingly young man with piercing blue eyes and a wide, goofy smile.  In the picture, he seemed very ordinary overall, though strangely dressed in two coats and a knitted chullo hat, despite the background being clearly a summertime beach.  
  
Jay took the portrait and examined it more closely.  Much like with Elle, he felt some déjà vu looking at the person in the image, as if he had seen him before.  Unfortunately, his grasp on this recollection was far weaker than what he felt with Elle, almost like another life than a lost memory.  
  
“This is Griffin,” Zed added, “an Archanan.  He’s a fifth-dimensional being, able to exist in and visualize an infinite number of spacetime probabilities at once.”  
  
“I’m sure Washu would love to talk to him,” the doctor commented offhandedly.  
  
“I bet she would, but I want him to use his talents to determine how much our bug has been meddling with the timeline.  Maybe he can also verify Dr. Hakubi’s video here too.”  
  
“Where do we find him?” Jay asked.  
  
“There’s a diner at Third and Wythe that he frequents.  Apparently, he likes the pie.”  
  
The former NYPD detective glanced at his watch and inquired, “It’s nearly 10 o’clock, Zed.  Would he still be there?”  
  
“Since many lifeforms eat there, the diner keeps longer hours than others would.  You should find him without too much trouble.”  
  
“Is there anything in particular we should know about him?” Elle requested.  “Given the aliens we’ve already met, I wouldn’t be surprised if he had laser vision and freezing breath.”  
  
“Since he experiences multiple timelines at once,” the chief explained, “he will seem very distracted and disjointed, but that’s normal.  He is the last known member of his species, so make sure nothing happens to him.  Get him here without incident.”  
  
“Got it,” Jay answered.  
  
“Seems simple enough,” Elle added.  
  
“Then, get on it,” Zed ordered.  
  
As the two junior agents rose and departed the chief’s office, their superior watched them resume their banter.  The head of the agency found irony in their assignment, Kay’s two personal choices sent to retrieve the same Archanan Kay saved from Boris the Animal.  The aging agent then thought of Kay’s report of the incident, including the death of Colonel James Edwards II by Boris.  
  
_There are some things a man doesn’t need to know_ , Zed reminded himself.  
  
With Jay and Elle, the pair of agents soon acquired an LTD from the motor pool and were rolling across the Brooklyn Bridge on their way to Williamsburg.  In transit, the thoughts of the former mortician returned to her new partner’s welcoming gesture, and the déjà vu returned.  These feelings of familiarity refused to abate, so at last, she posed questions to her new colleague.  
  
“How did you get recruited, Jay?”  
  
The former detective shrugged.  “Kay dropped me a business card after we had dinner at a Chinese place.”  
  
Saying those words, his thoughts started dissecting his memory of the day.  He remembered the ache in his muscles, not unlike a long run or workout, but could not recall how or why he was seated across from Kay.  Knowing what he did now, he gathered that he was likely neuralized by Kay, not unlike Elle had been in the morgue.  
  
_Figures that he’d lie to me_ , Jay chided himself, thinking of the many times he asked if he had been neuralized.  
  
“What were you before you met Kay?” she asked.  
  
His brows furrowed.  As his mentor had illustrated, the Men in Black did not discuss business with the public.  However, Elle was his partner, another agent as opposed to a random person.  The conflict boiled in his mind while she leaned against the door frame of the LTD.  
  
“You already know that I was a deputy medical examiner,” she noted.  “You even know my real name.”  
  
“Yeah,” he admitted, “and Kay knew who I was originally too.  But, he never told me anything about himself.  What I do know, I had to figure it out for myself.”  
  
Her eyes met his for a moment.  “And, are you Kay?”  
  
“No,” he retorted, “but that doesn’t mean that I’ll break the rules and regs.”  Conflicted, he shook his head and continued, “I don’t like it, Elle, but from what I’ve seen, this is how the job works.”  Thinking back to Kay’s words on the bench outside Battery Park, he added, “You have to sever every human contact, and no one will ever know you exist.”  
  
“Does that include other agents?” she astutely inquired.  
  
“From what I’ve seen,” he replied, “yes.”  Glancing briefly to her, he said, “You aren’t the same woman you were before that Edgar-suited cockroach came through, and I’m not the same man I was before I was recruited either.”  
  
“So, who we were before doesn’t matter?” she argued.  “I don’t agree with that.”  
  
“That’s not what I meant,” he defended.  “You were the one who got the princess and her friends to headquarters.  I don’t think just anyone could have done that.  And, you saved me and Kay from the cockroach.”  
  
“It doesn’t seem fair that you, and likely others at MiB, know more about me than even I do.”  
  
With an edge to his voice, Jay commiserated, “You think I like that I don’t remember how I first met Kay, or how I came to be in that Chinese joint?  I don’t like it either, but it’s the way it is.”  
  
Thinking back to her own enlistment, Elle stated, “When Oh recruited me, she was clearly mourning Kay’s ‘retirement’.  She was close to him in a way this job wouldn’t normally allow, so even _he_ had to have broken the rules at some point.”  
  
Admittedly, Jay himself was still mourning Kay’s departure, despite only having known the man for a few days.  He too could see cracks in Oh’s stoic British facade during the debriefing after the hotel incident.  However, he then remembered how short and snide Elle had been with him.  
  
“What do you want from me, Elle?” he asked.  “You’ve snarked at just about everything I’ve said to you since…”  
  
He stopped himself.  While the former detective clearly remembered how they flirted standing over Rosenberg’s body, the good doctor would not.  Kay locked that memory away from her, twice in rapid succession, to say nothing of what the cleanup crew wiped later.  The first memory she had of him was likely his poor acting when he misinterpreted her cloaked pleas for help as sexual innuendo.  
  
_No wonder she snaps at me all the time_ , he conceded.  
  
Then, he recalled déjà vu of his own, when he first saw Dr. Weaver in the morgue.  She had remarked that she recognized him then, as he did her.  Reflecting on this feeling, Jay felt the same as he did when thinking back to his first encounter with Kay, that something was missing or sealed away.  The conclusion became obvious at this point, and a knife of betrayal emerged in his heart.  
  
“‘Since’ what, Jay?” she requested.  
  
“I don’t remember the first time I met you, Laurel,” he said plainly.  “I’m pretty sure I met you right before I joined MiB, but it was erased alongside how I met Kay.”  His hands gripped the steering wheel of the LTD tightly as he broke the example given to him by his mentor.  “My first memory of you was in the morgue, when we watched Rosenberg die together.”  
  
Taken aback, Agent L sat in silence.  While her mind refused to give her the images from the scene, she could feel the pathos of loss ever so distantly, not unlike the familiarity she had around Jay.  
  
“I feel the same déjà vu you do,” he continued.  “It bothers me, but right now, I don’t know what I can do about it.  Really, that’s all I can tell you because my memory has been cut up almost the same as yours.”  
  
Elle could hear the feelings of betrayal and frustration in her partner’s voice.  She had not considered his own neophyte status with the Men in Black, that he too could be in the same situation as her.  She reflected on her shortness with him, particularly in the light of her own first few days with the agency.  
  
The good doctor started to speak when the car came to a halt at their destination.  Jay shoved the gear shift into park before his partner lightly grasped his shoulder.  
  
He paused and asked curtly, “What?”  
  
“I’m sorry, Jay,” she answered.  With a breath, she swallowed her immense pride and added, “I’ve been short with you and let all my stress out on you.”  He glanced back to her as she continued, “But, you’re the only person I’ve got any connection to right now.”  
  
As a former NYPD detective, Agent J has heard many lies, but he only heard sincerity from her now.  He rested his hand on hers and agreed, “Same here, Elle.”  
  
For a moment, he thought of the neuralizer in his pocket.  Laurel was a doctor, not a soldier or a cop.  He could easily ask her if she wanted to go back to the morgue, to be who she was.  Briefly, he envisioned her accepting the offer and having all these events flashed from her mind in a second.  
  
But, he shook that thought from his mind and said, “Let’s talk after this case is over.”  
  
“Alright,” she accepted as she turned her gaze to the diner.  “How should we do this?”  
  
“We’re just picking up a guy, so this should be a breeze.  Just follow my lead.”  
  
As the moonlight fell on Williamsburg, the two stood from their LTD and approached the diner side-by-side, easily falling into step with each other.  Soon enough, they entered the diner and started to scan over the scarce night clientele for their target.  Elle quickly spotted him to their right and motioned for Jay, who nodded.  
  
Dressed almost identically to his portrait, Griffin the Archanan sat munching on the pickle that had been served with his pastrami sandwich.  The last known member of his species, Griffin’s people had been annihilated by the Boglodites.  The Archanans had created a shield to defend their world from the invasion, but it had been completed too late to save themselves.  Escaping, Griffin had run from system to system, just ahead of a Boglodite assassin, Boris the Animal.  Eventually, the last Archanan had arrived on Earth and had guided Agents K and D to deploy the Arc Net shield around the planet.  The two agents also had captured Boris, who now resides in the LunarMax prison on the moon.  Sadly, Col. James Edwards II, whom Griffin had convinced to help Kay and Dee, had been killed by the villainous Boglodite as he had fought to stop the deployment.  
  
Griffin hated that Col. Edwards had died, but he had not seen any other alternative.  An Archanan had the ability to perceive nearby realities by shifting his being out of phase.  In so doing, he could see future light cones emanating from the present instant.  Thus, he could prognosticate based upon what alternatives could result from the present state of his reality.  Naturally, such predictions could be faulty, as an improbable event can still happen under the correct conditions.  Unfortunately, regardless of the cases Griffin saw, blood would be shed at the Apollo 11 launch site.  In the worst case, Boris would have murdered Kay and destroyed the Arc Net before it could be deployed, resulting in the  eventual destruction of Earth at the hands of the Boglodites.  
  
Usually, Griffin found his ability a tremendous burden, particularly since so much death followed him from his home-world.  However, he took great joy when he found a particularly happy moment that was unlikely, but happened anyway, his personal definition of a “miracle”.  Saving Earth had been one such miracle.  
  
Tonight, he was peeking into one possible future, where the diner’s head waitress finally told the fry cook of her pining love for him.  She had already dropped numerous hints to her prospective lover, but his dense nature had blinded to her interest.  The positive probabilities seemed finally to be amassing, and Griffin’s future vision slowly seemed to be merging with this reality.  
  
Then, the probabilities suddenly began to plummet.  
  
_Is this the reality where she forgot to tie her shoe laces and trips?_ he asked himself.  _Or, is someone going to order another sandwich and distract her?  Surely, she remembered to lock her door before she left her apartment!_  
  
Shifting his fifth-dimensional gaze away from the couple, he saw a different reason manifest, a face he had seen back in 1969.  Just before his adventure with Kay and Dee, Griffin had seen a very slim possibility blip into the future light cone of this universe.  In that potential reality, an MiB agent had traveled back in time and partnered with Agent K against Boris.  
  
Now, Griffin saw a different incarnation of this time traveling agent and a new partner sitting with him, talk of a “bug” with tremendous power, violence, the space pirate with the bluish hair.  As he gazed farther down this timeline, he began to see fracturing, four cohesive outcomes coalescing, each very similar to the other but with subtle variations.  All involved battle with this monstrous insect, a large mechanical combatant, the Terran hunter, and the silver woman.  
  
But, a fifth arose as Jay and Elle sat flanking the Archanan.  In none of the previous four parallel outcomes had they come to him.  
  
“Griffin, right?” Jay asked.  
  
“Yes,” the alien seer responded grimly, “and you’re here about the giant mantis creature.”  
  
Taken aback, the agent concurred, exchanging a brief incredulous glance with his partner.  “Yeah, how’d you know?”  
  
Briefly, the extraterrestrial clairvoyant peered into the myriad of diverging probabilities and turned to Jay.  “Did both of you get hot dogs at a street cart two days ago?”  
  
“No,” the agent replied.  
  
Raising a brow, Elle said, “We were only partnered this morning.”  
  
Several future forks darkened from Griffin’s senses, and Death became far more prevalent.  _Oh, dear_ , he thought worriedly.  _Not here._  
  
“What about the red-haired Galaxy Police officer?” he asked.  “Where is she?”  
  
“At headquarters, last I checked,” the good doctor responded.  
  
More temporal branches faded away, those remaining having violence centering on this very diner, many innocents dying.  The Archanan stood and declared, “We have to go.”  
  
Jay rose at his side and said, “Whoa, hold up!  What’s got you so spooked?”  
  
Directing his probabilistic sight toward the door, several futures manifested, most branching from two possibilities:  either the bug would enter wearing a skin-suit, or the blue-haired space pirate would saunter through the door.  In one minute, either the bug would kill Jay and Elle, or the MiB agents would pull their weapons on Ryoko.  
  
“I don’t have time to explain,” Griffin answered.  “We need to leave right now!”  Then, the time-gazer glanced to the side in the probability space.  He turned to Elle and asked, “Wait!  Didn’t you have a different partner a couple days ago?”  
  
“Yes,” she said, her eyes sliding to Jay for a moment, “how did you…?”  
  
The Fates shifted, and instead of the bug or Ryoko, an auburn-haired woman walked through the door and took a seat on the other side of the diner.  Relieved, Griffin wiped his brow and whispered, “That was a close one!”  Looking through the new possibilities, the bug and Ryoko were still converging on this diner.  “We have only minutes before the bug and the pirate both get here.  Their timelines invariably come through that door if we stay here.”  
  
Recalling Zed’s briefing, she deduced, “You’re looking into the future, aren’t you?”  
  
“Only some of the possible outcomes,” he corrected, “and I want to stay in one where everyone here stays safe.”  
  
The details registered in Jay’s head as he nodded.  “Then, let’s do that.”  
  
Together, the two agents escorted Griffin out of the dining establishment and toward their LTD, but as they shut the car’s doors, a female figure stepped out of a nearby alley ahead of the vehicle.  In the shadows, her hair seemed to spike around her head as she sauntered forward.  Her hand raised toward the LTD, as if asking for it to hold.  
  
Elle started to open her door when Jay grabbed her shoulder to stop her.  Activating the car’s headlights, he illuminated the figure, showing her identity beyond question.  Her black hair was disheveled and caked with blood, her clothes torn from claw strikes.  Even her jaw was haphazardly dislocated to the right.  Ruby beams of light gathered into her hand, coalescing into an energy pulse directed at the conveyance.  
  
Taken aback, the good doctor did not initially notice Jay shifting the car into reverse, his eyes focused squarely on the creature before them.  
  
“Buckle up, you two,” he ordered.  
  
As Elle and Griffin fastened their seat belts, the latter could see glimpses of the action to come.  
  
“Oh dear, it’s the chase one!” he commented to himself.  
  
The agent slammed his foot on the accelerator, causing the tires to squeal and smoke against the pavement.  Spinning the steering wheel, the automobile swerved as the bolt of energy shot from the corpse’s hand at their former location.  While the rotting figure scowled and began to charge another ray, Jay shifted the car into drive and raced into the street, the engine roaring away from Illirg’s new form.  
  
The beast’s mandibles ripped through the dislocated jaw as he menacingly hissed at the agents.  Levitating, the skin-clad creature flew into a nearby alley, to his secondary plan.  There, his own vehicle awaited, cloaked from the sight of prying eyes by a distortion field.  With some clicking orders from his insectoid mouth, the distortion dissipated, revealing a disc-shaped craft.  The vehicle split, opening like a clam for its occupant, who ripped off and discarded his facade, pretense now no longer necessary.  Illirg scurried into the pilot’s seat and readied the ship for flight.  
  
Meanwhile, on a rooftop far out of Illirg’s line-of-sight, Ryoko and Ryo-Ohki watched in silence, their feline eyes glaring down at the villain and his machine.  Both recognized the shimmering of the optical cloak, the same distortion that was hugging close to the hull of the Arquillian battle cruiser.  He had shot them down.  He had caused them to fall into the jurisdiction of the Men in Black.  
  
_And_ , she reminded herself, _he got into my head, and he cut Ayeka down._  
  
Exchanging a glance, she and her furry partner agreed on their course of action.  
  
Within a few minutes, the agents’ LTD was speeding across the Williamsburg Bridge.  At the late hour, the traffic was far lighter than during the day, but some cars did impede Jay’s progress.  Checking his mirrors, he saw no sign of the bug in pursuit and relaxed a bit from his initial agitation.  
  
Adrenaline still rushing through her, Elle asked her partner, “How did the bug know where we would be?”  
  
“No idea,” he answered before glancing back to Griffin.  “Would he be after you?”  
  
Shaking his head, the Archanan responded, “No, in every neighboring possibility, he was tearing the skin off of an MiB agent.  I think he was wanting a new disguise.”  
  
Furrowing his brows, Jay considered this statement.  “Why would he want an MiB agent’s skin?  Wasn’t he after Ryoko?”  
  
“I don’t know,” the passenger answered.  “I didn’t notice a sudden change in probability until you two entered the diner.  Something drastic shifted the timeline, as if…”  He trailed off as he gazed into the temporal ether and saw what was coming.  “Stop the car!”  
  
At Griffin’s word, Jay slammed on the brake pedal, the tires screeching against the pavement.  As the car came to rest, a bolt of green light shot into the road ahead of the conveyance, sending chunks of asphalt into the air.  As traffic seized behind them, the LTD’s occupants turned to see Illirg’s saucer hovering over the East River, its weapon banks charing another emerald beam.  
  
“Oh _no_!  You did _not_ shoot that green shit at me!” Jay exclaimed as he grabbed a lever between his and Elle’s seats.  
  
At the end of this protrusion awaited a red button, one that Kay had warned him about during their first ride together, the secret to this vehicle.  Honestly, Jay was not sure he was quite ready for what was to follow his next action, but short of engaging the ship here on the bridge, options were in short supply.  
  
Before his thumb could press the button, a shot of ruby energy crashed into the saucer, jarring it from the motionless hover.  Looking higher into the sky, the LTD’s passengers saw the crystalline form of _Ryo-Ohki_ descending from the moonlit sky, already firing a second shot at the enemy craft.  The saucer dodged and turned to engage the Ryoan vessel, which drifted higher into the night sky and fired again.  Once more, the disc-shaped machine slid away and now returned fire.  _Ryo-Ohki_ , however, darted into the clouds, spurring Illirg’s vehicle to pursue.  
  
In the LTD, Jay removed his hand from the lever and returned it to the steering wheel.  His eyes scanned over Elle and Griffin, finding them equally relieved from the encounter.  
  
“Another close one!” the Archanan added with a silly grin on his face.  
  
To Elle, Jay commented gravely, “That was Ryoko’s ship just now.  I guess she really wanted to get some payback after all.”  
  
“Yeah,” she accepted before motioning behind the car, “but that payback got some uninvited attention.”  
  
Around the LTD, people were exiting their vehicles and gawking at the crater, as well as the two ships that just left their radius of sight.  Knowingly, Elle nodded to her partner, acknowledging the unfortunate task he now had to handle.  With a heavy sigh, Jay silently concurred as they donned their sunglasses together and exited the car.  Elle called the people together while Jay drew his neuralizer from his pocket.  
  
Meanwhile, _Ryo-Ohki_ exchanged fire with Illirg’s saucer in the mesosphere, red and green pulses flying between the two ships as they maneuvered around one another.  On _Ryo-Ohki_ ’s crystalline bridge, Ryoko stood with her arms folded as her psychically bonded ally produced a communication screen to the enemy ship.  Upon the display, Illirg’s grotesque face appeared and hissed viciously at her.  However, the Ryoan pirate stood firm and scowled coldly back at the beast, all his actions against her and her friends quite fresh in her mind.  
  
“Ryoan bitch!” the bug snarled at her.  
  
“Why did you attack us three nights ago?” she demanded as one of _Ryo-Ohki_ ’s blasts rocked his ship.  
  
“As my queen has ordered, so I obey,” he retorted as one of his limbs pulled a switch.  
  
However, the console sputtered and sparked while the ship attempted to engage the optical cloak.  Unfortunately for Illirg, the cloak failed, and _Ryo-Ohki_ mercilessly hammered the ship with three more shots in rapid succession.  
  
As the beast roared in frustration, Ryoko glared back at him, her pupils slit-like, angry, demonic.  “You can’t snipe from cover this time, asshole,” she declared coldly.  “What does the bug queen want with me?”  
  
“As my queen has ordered…” he began before several more bolts flew from _Ryo-Ohki_.  
  
Illirg’s ship barely swerved from these attacks and retaliated as the gemstone craft nimbly avoided them without trouble.  A different frustration curled Ryoko’s lip while her already short patience grew ever shorter, revenge just a brief mental command away.  
  
“What did you do to me last night?” she demanded.  
  
“Old debts need to be paid,” he recited.  
  
Her knuckles cracked as she gripped her fists tightly, the fires in her eyes burning more fiercely.  
  
“I don’t owe anything to anyone,” she declared defiantly, “particularly not Balta Isoroku or his cronies!”  
  
His mandibles twisted into a sickening grin as his compound eyes met hers through the screen.  “Who said anything about the Ryoan pirate guilds, Ryoko?  A daughter of Ryua has _higher_ fealty, doesn’t she?”  
  
An icy chill raced through her spine.  Her mouth grew dry while she pieced together the clues.  Most of her life, she had merely gone by the name “Ryoko”, ignoring her family name entirely and not without reason.  Once, she had learned very viscerally that “Ryua” meant more than her blood relatives, or her planet of origin.  After that incident, she had split not only from the pirate guilds, but her family as well, freeing herself from responsibilities and regrets.  
  
And yet, now a monster has come to her, resurrecting that accursed name.  A day ago, black fire had whispered a single word to her mind in a voice that shook her to her core.  
  
“Daughter,” spoke her mother, from whom Ryoko had inherited the name “Ryua”.  
  
Closing her eyes and taking a breath, the cyan-maned fury gnashed her teeth behind her lips.  Use of that voice by this beast sullied a memory for the notorious space pirate, a past innocence she held closely guarded.  Such an affront would not be unanswered.  
  
Her eyes opened, her feline pupils dilated widely, angrily, enraged.  
  
Her fuming words hissed from her lips as an order, “Cripple him.”  
  
With a reverberating meow, the crystalline ship charged her primary gemstone spine, her most powerful weapon.  Illirg’s saucer opened fire once more, but the Ryoan ship held firm as the shots ricocheted off her defensive barriers, no longer playing with her prey.  In a burst of crimson light, the pirate battleship expelled a mighty beam at her adversary, who attempted to evade.  However, _Ryo-Ohki_ merely swept the weapon quickly through the hull of the other ship, cleaving a circular segment from the vessel, and then another.  
  
Heavily damaged, the bug’s craft soon lost its propulsion and began to fall back toward Manhattan far below.  Sparks popped, and alarms blared around Illirg while he frantically attempted to regain control of his vehicle.  Though stricken with static and artifacts from failing power, his displays showed _Ryo-Ohki_ following not far behind.  Watching the altitude closely, he waited until his vessel reached the troposphere before pulling the ejection lever.  
  
Opening like a clam, Illirg leaped from his craft, spreading his six limbs into the air to slow himself.  Furthermore, he uncased his rigid wings to catch more of the rushing air around him.  While his wings were far too heavy to fly, the beast could decelerate enough not to die on impact with the ground.  
  
Then, _Ryo-Ohki_ fired shots through those wings, causing him to fall faster once more.  Sheathing his wings, Illirg’s carapace shifted to red as he summoned Ryoan energies to control his descent.  Again, the crystalline craft fired at him directly, but the blasts did no damage, only thrusting him in a different trajectory.  
  
Meanwhile, in MiB headquarters, Zed watched the battle on the Egg Display, captured by the surveillance satellites in orbit.  From a side entrance, Masaki Tenchi walked into the main hall and saw _Ryo-Ohki_ in combat.  He quickly rushed to the screen, his concerns for Ryoko reignited.  
  
“What’s going on?” he asked in Japanese.  “Who is she fighting up there?”  
  
“It looks like she finally caught up with the bug that was chasing her,” the chief answered in kind.  “They’re on target to land in our front yard.”  
  
“Isn’t someone going to help her?”  
  
“Not really, kid,” Zed replied.  “She is still a space pirate, so after they land, my agents will neutralize the bug and apprehend her for the Galaxy Police.”  
  
Helplessness and frustration started to boil within Tenchi, spurred by Zed’s callous response.  He understood that Ryoko had an unsavory past, and he had seen glimpses of it, particularly when they first met and during the trek to Jurai.  However, that was not the woman he knew as his friend.  
  
He glanced to the chief and stated, “She’s a victim in all of this as much as Ayeka.  Neither of them asked to come here and get wrapped up in this mess.  She could have flown away if she wanted to.”  
  
“I’m sorry, son, but that doesn’t change who she is and what she’s done.”  
  
Turning his attention to the Egg Display again, Tenchi watched as _Ryo-Ohki_ ’s blasts do nothing to Illirg.  The young prince’s fists curled tightly as he thought about how Ryoko fought defiantly through Jurai’s defenses, how Ayeka was now laying in the MiB infirmary, how he could do nothing about either.  
  
And, he would no longer remain a spectator.  
  
As the young man spun away from the lead agent, Zed called back to him, “Where do you think you’re going?”  
  
“I’m going to help my friend,” Tenchi retorted.  “I won’t just stand by while she’s in danger.”  
  
“I’m afraid I can’t have that,” the aged agent responded before motioning to a pair of black-suited men near the door.  
  
These two operatives flanked the prince, who turned back to Zed.  
  
The chief ordered in English, “Mr. Masaki here is under house arrest.  We already have a Juraian princess in the infirmary.  We really don’t need a prince joining her, even if he isn’t pure-blooded.”  
  
“This isn’t right!” Tenchi contested.  
  
“It’s for your own good, your highness,” Zed  countered.  “We’ll deal with you after we handle the bug and your pirate friend.”  
  
As the two men reached for Tenchi’s arms, the young man reacted with little hesitation.  He slid into one of the goons, reaching around him and lurching his center of balance forward.  Skillfully, the prince flipped his first adversary onto his back before crouching to sweep the load-bearing leg of the other foe.  Returning to his feet, the prince’s gaze fell on Zed, who was taken aback by the teenager’s prowess.  
  
This shock did not last as the chief called for more security to apprehend Tenchi, but the Juraian nobleman quickly rushed into the elevator across from the Egg Display.  Hammering on the “close door” button, Tenchi was sealed inside the carriage, which shot upward toward the surface.  
  
Zed simply turned to the Twins and said, “Boys, get me Jay and Elle.”  
  
At the top of the shaft, Tenchi stepped out of the carriage to meet the entrance guard, who set his newspaper aside and rose from his post.  Cracking his neck, the man stood imposingly before the prince and said two curt words.  
  
“Stand down.”  
  
With a calming breath, Tenchi steeled his resolve for the choice he has now made.  
  
_No turning back now_ , he told himself.  
  
While the prince carefully slid one of his feet back to lower his stance, the exterior doors opened for Jay and Elle.  The newly-minted male agent was just now listening to his communicator, where Zed was issuing the capture order for Tenchi.  His female partner was taken aback by the scene as Griffin peeked around her.  
  
“Oh dear,” Griffin lamented.  “This won’t help anything.”  
  
Elle took a step into the foyer and asked, “What’s going on here?”  
  
Tenchi replied with his stilted and forced English, “I am going to help Ryoko!  Do not stop me!”  
  
“Why are you fighting our agents?”  
  
Jay closed his communicator and answered soberly, “Zed wants him put under arrest, before he gets himself hurt like the princess did.”  
  
“Okay, I can see his reasoning,” Elle admitted, “but you saw the same video I did.  He has powers not unlike Ayeka or Ryoko.  He’d probably have a significant advantage compared to us.”  
  
The entrance guard shook his head and argued, “Orders are orders.”  
  
“Think about it!” the good doctor rebuked.  “Ryoko just saved us on the Williamsburg Bridge and is still fighting that bug right now.  Shouldn’t we help her take it down?”  
  
Conflicted, Jay considered her argument, but wrestled with the orders from Zed.  “She is a space pirate, right?”  
  
Griffin stepped to Jay’s side and added, “Agent J, if you would allow me.”  
  
As the former detective turned to the Archanan, the alien grabbed his shoulder.  With tactile contact, Griffin shared his probabilistic vision with Jay, showing him the possibilities resulting from his choices in this moment.  If Jay chose to help the guard arrest Tenchi, Illirg would overpower Ryoko again and then come to MiB headquarters to kill every agent in the complex.  Many variants of this eventuality played through Jay’s mind, but all showed him that Illirg’s ruby-colored carapace could not be pierced by their weapons or Ryoko’s sword.  
  
Griffin released Jay’s shoulder, and for a brief moment, the agent was dazed.  However, he then saw the entrance guard take a step toward Tenchi.  In a fast motion, the New York native drew his sidearm on the guard, its high-pitched hum halting the stocky man in his tracks.  The guard was stunned to see his own colleague holding him at gunpoint.  
  
“Let the kid pass,” Jay ordered.  
  
“Are you crazy?” the other agent asked rhetorically.  
  
“I hope not,” he admitted, still a little unsure himself.  
  
Tenchi glanced from one man to the other before he hesitantly joined Jay’s side.  
  
“Now, we’re heading down to Battery Park,” Jay announced to the guard.  “Tell Zed to send what he can.”  
  
“You’re making everything worse.”  
  
“We’ll see.”  
  
With that, Jay and his companions carefully backed out of the main entrance.  However, Griffin stayed behind.  
  
“Griffin?” Elle called to him.  
  
“I will smooth out everything here,” he answered.  “You three need to make sure Ryoko wins.”  To Tenchi, Griffin added in Japanese, “Ryoko needs you with her to stop the bug.  Hurry.”  
  
The prince nodded before he and the two agents spun away and ran down toward the Battery.  The Archanan then raised his hands and surrendered to the guard.  
  
“I give up!” he said with a silly grin.  “Take me to your leader.”  
  
Down at the Battery, Illirg’s ship smashed into the Upper Bay while the mantis himself crashed through a tree in the park, shaking off the blasts from _Ryo-Ohki_ ’s main cannon.  The Ryoan battleship herself loomed above the park as her pilot teleported in front of Illirg, her amber eyes glowing in the moonlight.  In a single motion, she formed her ruby sword.  
  
“Dammit!” she cursed.  “What does it take to kill you?”  
  
Illirg rose back to his feet and roared at the cyan-maned pirate, who darted at him, swinging her blade at his neck.  However, his carapace shifted from red to deep purple, drawing from his command of NVO energy.  Around his claws, talons of dark light manifested as he raked them at the Ryoan woman.  Before impact, she vanished from sight and reappeared at his side, but one of his four legs swung up and knocked her away.  He turned toward her, hissing as he gathered the shadowy power into his hand and thrust the pulse at her.  She rolled away from the explosive impact and threw her sword at him.  However, a onyx barrier appeared around him and deflected the Ryoan blade to burst through a nearby stone walkway.  
  
Ryoko spit some blood from her lips as she pushed herself back to her feet, glaring at her adversary.  From above, _Ryo-Ohki_ meowed and fired her batteries onto Illirg, but her shots were likewise deflected to the surrounding park.  When she ceased fire, the bug launched a shadowy pulse up at her as well, spurring her to revert to her far smaller cabbit form and fly down into the trees.  
  
The beast laughed to himself with his mandibles twisted into a sickening smile.  
  
“You don’t have your Juraian friend anymore,” he chuckled, “and your rodent ship is useless.”  
  
Then, Illirg caught motion to his side.  Turning, he saw Tenchi, Jay, and Elle running toward him, and he recognized the two agents immediately.  
  
“So, the Men in Black aren’t completely cowards,” he mused.  
  
Ryoko also looked and gasped at seeing Tenchi rushing toward the danger here.  Forming her sword, she called out to him.  
  
“Stay back, Tenchi!”  
  
“Not this time!” he retorted as he drew Tenchiken from his tunic.  
  
Amused, Illirg stepped to face Tenchi, but then the prince focused his innate Jurai power into the sword hilt.  The device then manifested a blue blade, not unlike Ryoko’s, but made of his Juraian energies.  Realizing the power the teenager wielded, Illirg recoiled, but Tenchi was already swiping his sword into the onyx barrier.  On contact, the two opposing forces sparked crimson and azure, but unlike Ayeka’s previous attempts, the barrier around the bug began to crack.  
  
Seeing this, Ryoko flew to Tenchi’s side and stabbed her sword alongside his, adding her Ryoan energies alongside the Juraian.  In so doing, the ruby and azure light from their blades mingled and flared brightly like a blazing star.  The pair pushed further, causing the barrier’s cracks to deepen and spur the beast inside to step back from them.  
  
Then, the barrier shattered entirely, freeing Ryoko to throw her sword into Illirg’s face.  The blade burst on contact, causing the giant insect to stagger.  He shifted his carapace to red, summoning Ryoan energies, but Tenchi dashed forward and cut across his thorax.  The creature howled in pain as its carapace shifted to green, reverting to Juraian powers.  Generating viridian talons, his claws clashed with the swords of his two attackers, temporarily holding them at bay.  
  
And then, bluish-green pulses of plasma scorched the dorsal sides of Illirg’s thorax and abdomen, causing him to lurch forward.  Glancing back, he saw Jay and Elle holding weapons trained on him, preparing to fire again.  Injured, Illirg put his might into pushing Tenchi and Ryoko aside as he scurried past them and spun back to face his four adversaries.  His mandibles clattered as he hissed and arched himself imposingly, his wounded wings uncased to appear even more threatening.  
  
However, Tenchi and Ryoko quickly regained their footing and stood side-by-side, swords humming and glowing in unison.  Jay and Elle soon flanked them with their weapons trained on the giant insect.  
  
Illirg glanced between them and considered his situation.  He was wounded and needed to tend his injuries.  He had been using Ryoan energy to reinforce his carapace against Ryoko’s sword, but the MiB’s weaponry or the Juraian’s sword could damage him.  He could block the guns with NVO energy, but two swords have shown that they could shatter that barrier together.  He could shatter the Ryoan’s blade with Jurai energy, but then the Juraian sword could still cut into him.  Moreover, cycling took a moment, and any of the three could attack in that moment.  Worse yet, his ship was now a wreck in the bay.  
  
And, all four of them stood between him and his target inside the MiB’s headquarters.  
  
Reluctantly, Illirg changed his carapace to red and used that Ryoan energy to fly out over the bay.  Ryoko stepped forward to pursue, but Tenchi placed his hand on her shoulder, drawing her attention to his far calmer demeanor.  
  
“Let him go for now, Ryoko,” he requested.  
  
Her amber eyes slid to the escaping bug one last time before she acquiesced, letting her sword dissipate.  Tenchi did the same before his attention turned to Jay and Elle.  Glancing between the two of them, the prince considered what he had done:  resisting arrest, evading arrest, assaulting two agents.  He knew that while he did what he thought was right, consequences were coming soon enough.  
  
And, indeed, before he could act, several black-suited agents stepped out of the trees and aimed their weapons at the quartet.  Ryoko spun toward them and readied to forge her sword anew, but Tenchi slid in front of her and held up his arms.  
  
“I surrender,” he stated in very forced and carefully pronounced English.  “I will not resist.”  Carefully, he set Tenchiken on the grass before him.  
  
“What the hell are you doing?!” Ryoko argued in Cerulian/Japanese.  
  
His brown eyes met the amber of hers, seeing all the worry and concern for him, the fear for him being incarcerated.  Calmly, he whispered to her, “I don’t want to see you get hurt anymore tonight, Ryoko.  We can’t run forever.”  
  
“Tenchi…” she whispered, aghast and taken aback as the agents advanced on them.  
  
Likewise, Jay set down his weapon and raised his arms, saying, “Well, this is some bullshit.  Griffin didn’t smooth out shit.”  
  
The MiB security cuffed Tenchi, Ryoko, and Jay before confiscating all material weapons, including Tenchiken.  Elle, however, was not taken in irons, but rather escorted back to headquarters separately, having not been directly party to the attacks of Tenchi or Jay.  As Ryoko was taken into custody, she gave Ryo-Ohki a single telepathic command.  
  
_Rest up, partner.  We might need to break out of this place again._


End file.
